


All about Control (Heightened Senses)

by Winglesss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Barebacking, Blindfolds, Bondage, Bottom Dean, Bottoming from the Top, Butt Plugs, Dom Castiel, Dom Drop, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, Feeding Kink, Felching, Gags, Gentle Dom Castiel, Lingerie, M/M, Marking, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Abuse, Past Drug Use, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Worker Castiel, Sub Dean Winchester, Sub Drop, Switching, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:51:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 71,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winglesss/pseuds/Winglesss
Summary: It's easier to submit to your deepest desires when the circumstances are anonymous and businesslike. At least that's what Dean thinks and why he decides to pay for a service of an experienced Dom. What he doesn't know is that even with your hands tied and blindfolded you are not immune to feelings.Castiel has been a Dom for years, he learned to read people well and there´s not much that can surprise him. Until Dean becomes his client and then much more.This story is all about control. About giving it, taking it and losing it. Most of all it´s about the things we have no control over.





	1. Heightened Senses

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a part of a much longer work, but after getting stuck at 50k for more than a year I realized I´m not gonna finish it, so I decided to at least share this part which can stand alone. I´m aware that it´s pretty unrealistic and grossly self-indulgent, but I still hope you´re gonna like it. Please let me know by leaving a comment!
> 
> ETA: so after the amazing reactions I got I decided to post the rest and maybe even keep writing. I will update irregularly and until somebody volunteers, the chapters will be unbetaed.  
> I should also warn you that there´s not gonna be much plot. I focused on the characters and the development of their relationship. And the smut of course. I just had some ideas I thought were kinda original and wanted to use them.  
> I tried to make this as safe, sane and consensual as I knew how, but if you ever get a feeling that I´m turning into E.L.James please let me know here or on my [tumblr](http://cas-lost-grace.tumblr.com/), Of course, I appreciate positive feedback too :)

 

Wearing his favorite panties and stockings, blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back, Dean wonders how long he’s been waiting like this. His knees start to hurt even though the carpet he’s kneeling on is soft. The nice redhead girl who helped him get ready told him his assigned Dom will be here in a minute but it feels like eternity. He thinks the waiting is supposed to increase the excitement, but it only gives him time to doubt this was the right decision.

He was told this was a trustworthy business. He signed a contract that guaranteed him some kind of compensation if he wasn’t satisfied. He also had to go through a long ass list of things he wants and doesn’t want to do.

"There’s too much, I don’t know what I should choose," he said to the girl who introduced herself as Anna, the assistant.

"Whatever you always wanted to try, but were afraid to ask for," she said with a sweet smile.

"But if you’re new to this, you should stick to the basics," she added and pointed out some of the options.

He decided for simple bondage and blindfolding. He stated that spanking was okay, but his Dom wasn’t allowed to take any tools with him, so he’d have to use his hands if he wanted to punish him. Dean’s hand was shaking when he checked the little box next to the word penetration, but he was sure he wanted to get fucked.

It all seemed so business like then, almost sterile, safe. Right now, while he’s waiting for some stranger who might as well be a serial killer, it feels totally different.

He’s painfully aware of the fact that he’s completely vulnerable and it keeps him dancing on the thin line between being excited and actually being scared shitless.

His heart jumps into his throat as he hears the door open and close again. He wonders if the Dom actually entered, because there’s no sound, all he hears is his own frantic heart and ragged breath.

He starts to think he’s going insane when he finally hears soft footsteps behind him and then the strangest voice he’s ever heard says two words that make him feel like an electric current was sent through his body.

"Hello, Dean." It sounds like gravel and velvet and makes Dean think of whisky burning in his throat.

He doesn’t respond, he’s too busy trying to keep breathing.

He feels a wave of warmth radiating from the guy’s body as he leans closer. "What is your safe word?" he asks.

Dean catches a waft of his smell - wood and cinnamon. It makes him a bit dizzy.

"Impala," he blurts out the answer, surprised by how strangled his voice sounds. He clears his throat and repeats it, trying to sound more confident.

"Do you want to call this off?" the Dom asks and even though he knows it’s a standard routine, Dean feels a bit offended by the question.

He shakes his head. "No."

There’s a pause, the silence is heavy, charged. Dean bites his lower lip, replaying the conversation in his head.

"No, sir," he corrects himself and lets out a sigh of relief as he feels the tension in the room dissipate.

He listens to the guy’s footsteps, marveling at the fact that the Dom makes him realize he did something wrong without words. He’s clearly a professional, which helps Dean relax a little.

The guy walks around him and even though Dean knows he’s only imagining it, he can feel the weight of his stare on his skin like a physical touch, it makes him shiver.

"You look very nice in lingerie, Dean."

"Thank you, sir."

Dean feels his cheeks burn and realizes he’s glad he stated his real name. If the man didn’t do anything but say his name all night, he would be okay with it. But he’s going to get much more than this.

He jerks when warm fingers gently touch the back of his neck.

"Dean?" The hand disappears immediately and Dean regrets his reaction. He takes a deep breath to steady himself.

"I’m okay. It’s okay. You just startled me."

He imagines he can hear the guy smiling.

"That’s the magic of a blindfold. You never know where, or when I’m going to touch you." He trails feather-like touches over Dean’s shoulders and this time Dean doesn’t flinch.

"It keeps you on the edge, sensitive, hyper aware of everything I do."

It’s true. Every touch feels like it ignites sparks under Dean’s skin. He’d never thought such gentle

touches could make him feel so much. The long fingers skim down his spine, making goosebumps rise on the back of his neck.

A thumb strokes his collar bone, then travels down, until it finds his nipple. Dean inhales sharply and immediately regrets that he let the guy know just how sensitive his nipples are.

It takes a lot of effort to focus on the beautiful voice when the Dom speaks again.

"It also helps you let go of control. That’s why you chose it, right?"

Dean grits his teeth. He doesn’t want this, doesn’t want anyone to rake over his mind and dig up the reasons why he enjoys getting fucked while he’s tied up.

"No, I was just afraid I wouldn’t get hard if you were ugly."

For a moment, he’s scared he pissed the Dom off, then the guy chuckles and it’s the hottest sound Dean’s ever heard.

"Cheeky, I like," he growls and pinches Dean’s nipple. He jerks and squeals which should be embarrassing, but he’s glad the mood has lightened.

The Dom walks around him in circles like a predator around its prey. Dean’s straining his neck, trying

to track his movements and predict when he’s going to be touched. The touch never comes and Dean’s

already starving for it, he’s afraid he might start to beg. He realizes he’s ready to do whatever the husky voice asks of him.

He has to swallow a whine when he finally feels fingers on his chin.

"You have beautiful lips, Dean," the Dom says, his tone gentle. A thumb strokes Dean’s lower lip. He doesn’t thank him this time, but sucks the digit into his mouth instead.

He hears a sharp intake of breath, which makes him feel a surge of triumph. He sucks and licks eagerly earning himself another hearty chuckle.

"I see you know how to use that pretty mouth of yours," he sounds amused, but fond. Dean tries not to whine when the thumb slips out of his mouth leaving a wet streak on his lip.

"Do you want me to fuck your mouth, Dean?"

His heart skips a beat and before he can think about it, he hears a sigh that sounds suspiciously like "yeah" escape his lips.

"Well, you’ll have to ask for it."

Dean swallows around the lump in his throat. "I want-" he bites his lip and starts again.

"Please, let me suck your cock." His voice sounds so weak and his cheeks feel too hot. He takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders.

"Please, fuck my mouth." This time he sounds much more confident and he has the feeling the Dom is smiling again.

"You’re such a good boy, Dean." The praise makes Dean’s head spin.

He can’t believe it’s really happening, he’s really doing this. He snaps out of his thoughts when he hears: "Open your mouth, Dean." His heart is pounding so hard, he’s afraid it’s going to burst out of his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut under the blindfold and clenches his fists, nails digging into his palms as he opens his mouth and feels warm skin brushing over his lower lip. He darts his tongue out and licks the cockhead that’s slowly being pushed into his mouth.

"So good," the Dom breathes out and Dean takes it as an encouragement to suck him in deeper. He doesn’t realize how hard it is to keep his balance with his hands behind his back and almost falls forwards.

"Whoa, easy, tiger," the man grabs his shoulders to steady him. "Focus on keeping your balance and I’ll do the rest, okay?"

Dean hums his affirmation around the thick cock in his mouth and feels it throb. He’d grin if he could.

The Dom runs his fingers through Dean’s hair, scratching his scalp softly, which sends a wave of pleasure through Dean’s whole body.

He knows he’s a cockslut, but he can’t help himself, he loves this. The guy is taking it slow at first, but then he thrusts in deeper, tugging at Dean’s hair. He doesn’t fight back his moans and doesn’t mind the spit dribbling down his chin. He chokes a few times and there are tears wetting the blindfold, but it’s all worth it, because he can hear the guy’s heavy breathing and swallowed moans.

"Dean," it’s almost a sob, so needy it makes Dean’s cock twitch.

"I want to come on your face. Can I come on your face?"

Dean’s almost touched that the Dom asks for consent. He can’t answer with his mouth still full, so he makes sure the sound he makes sounds as enthusiastic as possible.

The Dom apparently takes it as a yes, because he slips out of his mouth.

"Keep your mouth open, sweet boy," he orders, voice breathy. Dean swallows and licks his lips before he obeys.

He hears a groan that makes him shiver and then a load of hot, thick come falls on his lips, tongue and cheeks.

When he thinks it’s all, he dares to shut his mouth without permission and swallows.

The Dom doesn’t say anything and for a moment Dean panics, thinking that his Dom has left him. The shuffling behind him, tells him he’s not alone and a moment later, he hears a click of a camera. Another wave of panic washes over him. He didn’t agree that the stranger will take pictures of him.

He realizes he’s shaking when he feels a warm palm on his cheek. "I took a photo on your phone so you can see yourself later. I believe you’ll enjoy the sight."

Dean sits on his heels and bows his head in relief. His Dom is good to him, so good, he wouldn’t do anything Dean doesn’t want to.

"Thank you, sir." His voice is husky, fucked out. He blushes as he hears the dark chuckle again.

"You did so well, Dean. I’m very pleased with you."

Dean grits his teeth. He loves being praised, especially by the deep velvety voice of his Dom. He enjoyed getting his mouth fucked, but nothing arouses him like the praise. He’s aware of the wet spot on his panties where his painfully hard cock is leaking precome and he feels a bit embarrassed by it.

A soft cloth is brought to his face, cleaning the jizz off.

"I’ll change your blindfold for a clean one. Keep your eyes closed. If you try to look at me, I’ll have to punish you."

Dean nods and feels the blindfold being taken off and a hand ruffling his hair. He catches himself toying with the thought of disobeying just to find out how it feels to be punished. But it would mean disappointing his Dom and he can’t do that, so he squeezes his eyes shut tighter.

He relaxes only when a new blindfold is secured over his eyes.

"Let me take you to bed now," he hears and nods eagerly. "Come on, get up, slow." Strong arms help him to his feet.

"Good boy. I’m going to untie you." He does as he says and Dean sighs when his wrists are freed.

"Roll your shoulders," the Dom orders and makes an appreciative sound when Dean complies. Dean grins smugly; he knows his shoulders and back are muscled and makes a bit of a show of stretching his stiff arms and neck.

It’s a pleasant surprise when two wide hands start to knead his muscles, getting rid of any possible kinks.

Dean hums contently and the palms slide down his back and to his hips. "Such a beautiful boy. So tall and strong, and so eager to please."

A pathetic noise rips its way out of his lungs. He needs to get on the bed and get fucked right now or he’s gonna explode.

But his Dom seems to have other intentions; he’s obviously determined to torture Dean even longer.

"Look at those pretty panties you put on for me, hugging your hot ass so nicely," he’s practically purring into Dean’s ear, his hand grabbing Dean’s ass.

"And how it’s straining over your hard cock, I’m glad to know you’re enjoying this."

Dean chews the insides of his cheeks, knowing he must be beet red.

"I’ll lead you to the bed now, is that what you want?"

"Yes, sir, please," it’s barely more than a whisper, fortunately it’s enough and Dean is finally led to the soft double bed he knows stands in the middle of the room.

"Turn around and if you reach behind, you can you’ll be able to touch the bed. Lay on your back."

Dean does what he’s being told. It’s much more comfortable than kneeling on the floor. He feels the mattress dip and the warmth of another body tells him his Dom is straddling his hips. He gasps when he’s grabbed and moved up the bed. He wonders if the guy is taller than him, he can manhandle him so easily.

"Stretch your arms above your head, I’m going to tie your hands to the headboard."

"Yes, sir," Dean breathes out and complies, wrapping his fingers around the rail behind his head. He feels something being tied around his wrist, but it’s definitely not the silk scarf he’s been tied with before.

"What is it?" he asks, before he can stop himself.

"What is what, Dean?" there’s amusement in his voice.

"What are you tying me up with?"

"Oh, it’s my tie. Is it uncomfortable?"

"Uh, no, it’s okay," he forces out, his mind stuck on the information. He’s been imagining the Dom naked, it didn’t occur to him that he might be wearing clothes, but he’s sure that from now on he’s going to picture him in suit pants and a dress shirt. He finds it incredibly hot.

"Dean? What’s your safe word?" the Dom asks tugging at the bonds, making sure they’re secure, but not too tight.

"Impala."

"Do you want to call this off?"

"No," he sighs. He feels the warmth of the other man’s body so close to his. His hands tingle with the urge to touch. To learn if the man is really wearing a shirt, how long his hair is, if his arms are as muscled as Dean thinks they are.

"What is it, Dean?" The question startles him.

"Tell me what’s going through your head," the Dom asks softly.

Dean hesitates, but he feels like he can tell him anything, because the Dom sees right through him anyway.

"I’d like to touch you," he whispers, a bit scared by his own words.

He hears the chuckle again, this time much softer.

Hot breath brushes over his lips and his own breath catches in his throat. For a moment he’s sure he’s going to get kissed, and there’s nothing in the whole world he wants more. But the warmth disappears and the next time he hears the Dom’s voice, it’s much further from his face.

"You’re going to be a good boy and not come until I give you permission, right?"

"Yes, sir."

There’s a pause, the silence heavy and filled with anticipation. Dean knows the Dom is doing it on purpose and he bites his lip to keep himself from squirming. His skin is buzzing; a few times he thinks he finally feels the softest of touches only to realize he’s just imagining it.

Right when he opens his mouth to beg, it finally comes and it’s a shock, because what touches his hip isn’t a hand, but a pair of lips.

He gasps for air and bucks his hips up to chase the touch, but it’s gone. Before he can collect himself, he feels another contact. This time his left nipple gets teased by a hot wet tongue and it’s definitely, too much, Dean can’t bear this. He cries out and writhes, the tie around his wrists digging into his skin.

It’s incredible, it’s torturous. One moment there’s a hand on his thigh, then lips on his neck and the next moment on his lower belly. It feels like the man is everywhere around him. Dean’s blood is boiling in his veins and his mind is giving up. He writhes and moans shamelessly.

When he paid for a professional Dom, he expected to be bent over and get fucked. This is much better and much worse at the same time. It drives him crazy.

"You’re so beautiful, so responsive." Right now the Dom is touching him more than ever before and it’s delicious. His both hands are slowly sliding up Dean’s nylon-clad legs, his lips are leaving small kisses right under Dean’s belly button.

"If this is what simple touch can do to you, I can’t wait to fuck you." Before Dean can even process the words, his mind short-circuits, because the man is nuzzling at his cock through his panties. "Jesus, fuck," he breathes out and immediately regrets it, because it makes the Dom stop.

"Such a foul mouth, you don’t want me to rinse it with soap, do you?"

"No, sir. I’m sorry, sir."

"You can make noise, Dean, but you’re not allowed to talk from now on, unless you are spoken to. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now where was I? Oh yes. Let’s take these off." He slips his thumbs under the waistband of the panties and tugs them down. Dean lifts his hips off the bed to allow him to take the underwear off. He hopes the Dom will get right back to his cock, but he kisses his ankle instead and slowly travels up, leaving kisses and gentle bites at his wake.

He finally kisses Dean’s inner thigh, then runs his tongue from the base of Dean’s cock to the tip. He sucks the head into his mouth. A guttural sound forms in the back of Dean’s throat and his hips buck up without his say so. Firm hands press them back to the mattress and then the heavenly lips are gone.

"Dean? Will this be your first time bottoming?"

Dean almost chokes on air. Does he seem like a virgin?

"No!" he bursts out, maybe too harsh.

"But you don’t bottom very often, do you?"

How the hell does he know? Is it written somewhere on Dean’s body, on his face? He doesn’t reply.

First because he thinks the guy already knows the answer, second because he doesn’t want to talk about it.

He’s afraid that once he starts, he’ll spill out all his secrets. How he’s still one foot in the closet, how he’s afraid to bottom because he’s scared of being unmanly, how hard it is for him to let himself enjoy the things he loves, like lingerie and a nice cock up his ass.

"It’s okay, Dean. I’m here to make you feel good. I just needed to know so I can decide how to treat you."

"I don’t need you to be gentle with me," Dean growls defiantly.

"Of course not." He’s closer now, hovering over Dean’s chest.

"I know I don’t have to. And I won’t." With that promise he kisses Dean’s chest and it’s the first time Dean notices the scratch of a stubble. All the anger dissipates and is replaced by a wish to see the face of the man with husky voice and strong hands.

Dean doesn’t hide his disappointment when he feels the other man getting out of the bed. The noise that forms in the back of his throat makes him sound like a wounded animal, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is the fact that he wants his Dom’s hands back on him right the fuck now. He feels cold and neglected and he hates it.

"Shh, I’ll be right back, sweetheart." There’s some shuffling and Dean strains his ears, not trying to guess what the Dom is doing, but to make sure he’s not leaving him.

He realizes he’s been breathing fast, his chest filled with anxiety, when he finally hears the beautiful voice again and a wave of relief washes over him.

"Bend your knees and spread your legs, Dean."

The indication behind those words almost makes him choke with anticipation. He bends his knees and spreads his legs, presenting himself. He’s fully aware of how vulnerable he is and he loves it. All he wants is for this man to do whatever he pleases with him.

He feels the Dom settle between his legs.

"Such a good boy, presenting your pretty, tight hole to me like this," the Dom purrs into his ear and Dean shivers feverously.

"I’m going to fuck you with my fingers, Dean. I need you to make them wet and slick for me, will you?"

He’s unable of speaking, too excited for what’s coming, so he just nods.

Two fingers are gently pressed to his lips, just their tips. They’re too far for him to suck them into his mouth or even lick them and don’t move even when he whines in protest. He has to lift up his head and upper body, straining his muscles to reach the fingers, but he’s awarded by a murmured "That’s it."

He’s making obscene sounds around those long slender fingers, thinking about how they’ll feel inside of him.

"That’s enough, Dean. You did well." The Dom withdraws his hand and Dean holds his breath.

"You’re going to tell me if you feel pain, right?"

"Mhm." He wants to tell him to stop talking and fuck him already, but he doesn’t dare.

"I have no intention to hurt you. Dean, you need to promise me this. Do you promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"What do you promise?"

"I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts."

"Good boy."

There are lips pressed to his hip and wet fingers circling his entrance. The feeling is so delicious, he wonders how he’s supposed to survive more. He’s sure he’s going to have a heart attack.

The Dom pushes his finger deeper and Dean has to bite his tongue to stop the stream of profanities threatening to slip out.

Of course he’s been fingered before, hell, he’s been fucked before, the difference is that now, there’s nothing else to focus on. He can’t touch his partner; he can’t even clutch the sheets, or curse. All he can do is feel. Feel the second finger being added, stretching him open.

When the Dom finds his prostate, it’s like he sets fire to Dean’s nerves and he jerks so violently, the Dom scolds him.

"For god’s sake, Dean, I like that you’re sensitive, but you almost kicked me!"

"I’m sorry," Dean chokes out. "I’m just... I can’t wait, please, can’t we just move on? I’m ready, I swear."

"You’re ready when I say you are," his voice is suddenly so firm and cold, Dean feels fear curl in his stomach. The man has been so gentle with him so far, Dean forgot he could hurt him, that he will hurt him if he’s not good enough.

"You need to learn some patience, Dean."

Dean feels like crying, he’s so ashamed, he reacted like a goddamn virgin and then he didn’t keep his mouth shut, and now his Dom is disappointed in him. He feels a sob crawling up his throat, but he doesn’t make a sound, just nods.

"You’ve been very good so far, Dean. You made me very proud. Don’t make me change my mind."

He won’t. He’ll be good, so good. He’ll take everything, do everything, anything his Dom asks of him.

The atmosphere is much less heated than just a moment ago and Dean hates it. It makes him feel hollow. He lets the Dom place a pillow under his hips to gain a better access and then he hears what he supposes is a tube of lube being opened, but the excitement he felt before is gone.

"Dean, I’m not angry with you." He doesn’t know why but instead of comforting him, the words send a pang of pain through his chest.

"I want you to enjoy this, but you have to relax."

"Yes, sir." Even his voice sounds hollow.

For a moment he thinks the Dom has changed his mind and is going to punish him after all.

What the man does is the last thing Dean would expect and the last thing he deserves. He takes Dean’s cock into his mouth. Dean realizes it’s not a reward when he feels three slick fingers pushing into his stretched hole. It’s actually torture, considering he’s not allowed to come.

The guy is apparently experienced and has a wicked tongue, he also manages to keep a steady rhythm of his hand, hitting Dean’s prostate every so often.

Biting his lips, swallowing sobs and struggling against his bonds, Dean thinks he made a big mistake when he came here. He’s sure he’s going to die in this man’s hands. It will be the best death he could think of, though.

He’s getting too close too soon. He tries, he really tries to control himself, but it’s too hard to fight against the feeling of wet warmth surrounding his cock and the pleasant burn of fingers stretching him open. The pleasure is coiling in his belly and he knows he’s going to lose it. He’s so close, so close. He sees stars every time the Dom’s fingers brush over his sweet spot and next time he’s definitely going to lose it.

But next time never comes. The Dom lets Dean’s cock slip out of his mouth and withdraws his fingers. The loss almost makes Dean cry.

His panting breaths are mixed with little whiny sounds, his chest is heaving fast and he hates everything, especially the sadist who makes him feel so good and then stops.

Then it hits him. He made it. It was a close call but he managed to hold on for long enough. He didn’t break the rule, didn’t disappoint his Dom. His heart swells with pride and he feels like laughing even though he’s still painfully hard and release is nowhere near.

"Do your arms hurt?" the Dom asks and Dean considers what are the chances he gets untied if he lies.

It’s not actually an option because the man sees right into his soul, so he can’t lie.

"No, sir."

"Your fingers aren’t tingling?"

"No, sir."

"Move them a little."

He wiggles his fingers, then balls his hands into fists and opens them again. They feel a bit stiff, but they’re okay.

The Dom hums, then Dean hears a rustle of a foil he recognizes as a condom package being ripped open. He thinks it’s the effect of the blindfold, it makes his hearing sharper.

He entertains himself by imagining the Dom rolling the condom on his big cock, then slicking himself with lube.

When he's ready, he takes his place between Dean's legs, he leads Dean to wrap them around his waist and Dean complies happily, finally having a way to touch the guy.

"Hm, the stockings feel good," he murmurs appreciatively and Dean makes a point of rubbing his foot against the back of the man's thigh eliciting another content sound.

His breath hitches as he feels the blunt head of a cock pressed against his hole.

"Are you ready, Dean?"

"I'm ready when you say I am." He has no idea where the bravado comes from and is really happy when the Dom’s reaction is another amused chuckle and not anger.

"So cheeky," he hisses and pushes in.

It's slow, but it still wrestles a loud moan out of Dean.

He knew the guy was big, he had him in his mouth, but it didn't prepare him for how full he makes him feel.

His mouth falls open in a voiceless cry and his back arches, as he feels the Dom pushing deeper, inch by inch. When he bottoms out, he stops, giving Dean a moment to catch a breath.

"Are you okay?" It sounds so soft and breathless it makes Dean believe the other man is just as affected as he is.

"I'm okay, just gimme a sec," Dean whispers.

“Alright,” the Dom breathes out and leans his forehead against Dean's chest. He's breathing heavily, his breath tickling Dean's belly. Dean wishes he could run his fingers through the guy's hair.

Gentle hands rubbing his hips help him relax quickly, but he's not sure he's allowed to say he's ready so he just uses his legs to urge his partner to move.

The Dom straightens up and wipes stray hair off Dean’s sweaty forehead. His grip on Dean’s hips tightens as he pulls almost all the way out and thrusts right back in.

He quickly sets a steady rhythm, just that side of too hard, but Dean doesn’t complain.

"Dean, you feel so good, look so pretty spread on my cock." Dean groans in reply, the growled praise being just as effective as the hard thrusts. Then the Dom changes the angle slightly to hit Dean’s prostate.

Dean mewls, fireworks bursting under his eyelids. He’s getting close again, he feels his cock bobbing against his belly, leaking precome.

He doesn’t even try to hold back this time, letting the pleasure engulf him.

Right when he thinks he might finally reach climax, wanting nothing more than the sweet release, the Dom slows down, keeping Dean teetering on the edge. Dean can’t decide if it’s more terrible or wonderful, it’s definitely like nothing he experienced before. He feels like he’s floating, like his body became ethereal - pure pleasure and, at the same time, it’s very physical- his ass clenching, cock throbbing, blood rushing through his veins. He’s aware of everything, even though his brain feels like it’s melted into goo.

The Dom changes his position, leaning down to kiss Dean’s neck. He wraps his arms around Dean and rolls his hips slowly. It’s so tender and so cruel, it makes Dean sob. He’s trying to breathe evenly, but it breaks into small needy sounds.

He’s reduced to a whimpering mess, melting under the Dom’s touches. His hands are dancing over Dean’s body, his lips leaving wet traces on his neck and jaw line.

The man he wants to hate, but really can’t, is everywhere, he’s surrounding him, his hot smooth skin pressed to Dean’s and he’s filling him up, moving in him, each fluid movement sending waves of pleasure through Dean’s body, up his spine and into the tips of his toes. The pleasure isn’t fiery now, it’s just simmering under his skin, in his guts. It might actually be even better. It’s too much, overwhelming, and yet not enough.

His thighs start to shake and he thinks that this is it, if he hasn’t lost it until now, he’s going to in this moment. But the beautiful voice, now even huskier, speaks right into his ear.

"Hold on, Dean. Just a little longer." It’s interrupted by a shaky inhale and lips brushing over the shell of his ear. "I know you can do it for me, Dean."

He can, yes he can do that for him, even if it means losing his mind. He wraps his legs around him a little tighter and mindlessly tugs at his bonds. It hurts and he hisses inadvertently.

He gasps as he feels deft fingers on his wrists, untying the knots.

He wants to shout that it’s not necessary, that he can bear that, he can stay tied. But before he can muster enough coherent thought to speak, the tie slides off his hands and he’s free.

He’s unable to control himself, his hands instinctively wrap around his partner’s neck. He pushes his fingers through the man’s hair, thick and soft and just long enough for Dean to fist his hand in it. Now that he’s able to, he wants to touch every inch of the man. His palms skim over the plains of firm muscle, digging into skin hard enough to bruise. The groans he elicits from the man are like angels’ choir for his ears.

He’s so happy he might explode. It has been so good the whole time, but now it’s perfect. Now he can grab the guy’s ass and move under him freely without hurting his shoulders. He even dares to press a kiss to his collarbone.

Their rhythm is faster now, vigorous. Dean throws his head back and clings to the guy for dear life.

The Dom’s hips start to stutter, he’s close too and Dean hopes it means he’ll get his permission soon.

What comes is much sweeter. Plush lips catch his and a hot tongue slides into his mouth.

He kisses back with all he has. His heart feels like it’s going to burst.

"Come for me, Dean," his Dom whispers against his lips and Dean finally lets go, moaning into his mouth. His orgasm crashes into him, a tidal wave of euphoria that makes his whole body tense up and release, leaving him boneless.

He almost doesn’t notice the other man going stiff, but he hears the cry of his own name.

The Dom thrusts weakly a few times, riding his high, then he collapses on top of Dean.

Dean slides his palms up and down the Dom’s back, smearing the beads of perspiration that gather along his spine.

He feels utterly spent, more exhausted than ever, but also more content.

He starts to drift off just before the other man slowly pulls out and gets up.

Dean groans at the lost and shivers due to the sudden cold.

"Shhh, I’ll be right back."

Dean rolls to his side and curls up on himself. He’s a bit sore, his shoulders feel stiff and his wrists are probably rubbed raw, but it doesn’t matter. Not when the mattress dips under the other man’s weight and strong arms wind around his torso.

The Dom cleans him up, then starts to massage his neck and shoulders.

"How do you feel?"

"Tired," Dean yawns, "happy."

"That’s good." A soft kiss to the back of his head.

"You did great, Dean. You deserve that."

Dean hums and reaches behind himself, catching one of the man’s hands, bringing it to his lips and kissing its knuckles.

"Thank you, sir. For everything."

"So you got what you came for?" the Dom asks and Dean takes a moment to think about it.

"I didn’t get what I expected. But I did get what I needed."

He feels the Dom’s lips curl into a smile where they’re pressed against Dean’s neck.

There’s a silence, warm and content, broken just by their even breaths.

"I have to go now, Dean. You can stay in the room for as long as you want and use the adjacent bathroom. There’s a juice box and a protein bar on the bedside table. Promise me you’ll drink it and eat at least half of the bar before you get out of bed."

"Hm. Promise. But do you really have to leave?" He sounds like a little boy.

"Yes. Unless you want something else from me."

Dean freezes. Is he granting him a wish? Why would he do that? But he would be stupid if he didn’t at least try to take the opportunity.

"I want to look at you."

The man behind him shakes his head, his hair tickling between Dean’s shoulder blades.

"That’s not possible, Dean. You chose this, you have to stick with it."

Dean swallows around the lump suddenly forming in his throat. He tries not to be disappointed.

"Then kiss me again."

The pause that follows makes Dean wonder if he made a mistake.

"Alright. But it will be a goodbye kiss."

Dean wants to protest, to say he doesn’t want this to end. But he’s too tired and knows it would be pointless anyway, so he just nods.

A comforter is draped over him, before he feels the man getting up. The rustling tells him he’s gathering his stuff. Dean listens to his footsteps and pictures him getting dressed. He’s getting pretty good at guessing where the man is, so he’s not surprised when he strokes his hair, kneeling in front of the side of the bed Dean’s curled up on.

What surprises him is the way his heart clenches.

"You’re a good boy, Dean. You’re perfect. Don’t let anyone tell you any different."

Dean nods even though it’s a promise he can’t keep.

"Goodbye, Dean." The kiss he presses to Dean’s lips is soft and chaste, but Dean feels it long after the man leaves the room.

Almost two weeks later and Dean still can’t stop thinking about that night.

When he left the room, he expected to feel weird, to feel like a slut, but he actually felt really great, confident, as if the guy’s words stuck with him.

He doesn’t feel as great anymore. He feels pretty miserable, because every time he closes his eyes, he can’t help but imagine those hands on him and the deep voice of his Dom. Even though he slowly starts to forget the voice, which makes him feel even worse.

He knows he should move on, it was an adventure, it was great, but now he has to live his life. The problem is he knows he’s ruined for anyone else. He can’t imagine anyone could make him feel the same way as the mysterious man whose face he didn’t even see.

He thought about coming back, about asking for the same Dom, maybe without the blindfold this time.

What discourages him is the thought of the Dom not even remembering him. He was just a customer after all, one of many. He wasn’t as special to him as he was to Dean.

But the more Dean thinks about it, the more he doubts it. He didn’t care at the moment, but in hindsight a lot of things that happened weren’t really... professional.

For example the Dom didn’t have to suck his cock and why did he untie him? And then the kiss. Sex workers don’t kiss their clients, do they?

The one thing he’s sure about, is that the guy really enjoyed it. Dean remembers the sounds he made when he fucked him senseless. How he moaned his name when he came.

So there’s a slight chance Dean’s life turned into some dirtier version of Pretty Woman and a professional dominant is somewhere out there thinking about him.

It doesn’t change the fact Dean will never see him again. Ha, never see him for the first time to be precise.

He thinks about it even in the little book and record shop he owns as he hands a teen girl her copy of Taylor Swift’s new album. (It’s a good one. He listened to it for professional reasons of course).

She winks at him and he musters a charming smile of his own. She doesn’t seem to recognize how fake it is.

He sighs and lets his eyes skim over the shop. The weird guy who entered a few minutes ago hides behind the shelf with philosophy books, pretending he hasn’t been staring at him.

Dean doesn’t really care, he’s used to customers looking at him like this. He’s just annoyed the guy doesn’t man up and talk to him. Maybe he’d even give him his number. He could test on him just how disappointing sex with someone ordinary feels. The guy looks utterly ordinary even though he’s quite handsome, if you ignore the ugly trench coat he wears over his suit. He even wears a tie. Dean rubs his wrist unconsciously, thinking about a different tie.

When he looks up from his hands he starts a little, because the creepy guy is standing right there. He’s very different now though. He holds himself tall, shoulders squared, chin up. Even though he’s a few inches shorter than Dean, he gives a vibe of someone who could make Dean get on his knees. Up close Dean also sees he’s very handsome with his bright blue eyes and wide pink lips.

Dean’s knees go weak when those lips finally move and the strangest voice he’s ever heard says two words that make him feel like an electric current was sent through his body.

"Hello, Dean."

 


	2. Beautiful Creature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically the first chapter from Cas´ point of view. I hope it casts some light on certain things. And of course, there´s a bit more about their meeting at the shop.

Castiel sighed when he looked into the papers and saw that his client for the day was a rookie. At least the guy was reasonable enough to stick with basics and didn’t order anything hardcore.

Working with rookies was always hard, he had to make sure the session didn’t end up being boring, but at the same time he didn’t want the guy to freak out and use his safeword ten minutes in.

As always he was wearing his business suit, he returned the papers to Anna and shrugged off his coat and jacket, then unlaced his shoes.

Barefoot he opened the door and stepped in, the soft carpet muted his footsteps. He held his breath for a second. It seemed he was a bit lucky after all, the guy was a looker - young and tall, broad shoulders and muscular arms tied behind his back. He held himself nicely even though Castiel had let him wait for quite some time. What surprised Castiel the most was the lingerie. It was a nice personal touch and it showed that the guy knew what he wanted. Maybe he wasn’t as new to this as it had seemed from what he’d filled in the form.

The guy visibly shivered when Castiel said his name. That meant he’d stated his true name, which was good, it always made it easier for Castiel to connect with the sub.

He stepped closer and leaned down to talk right into Dean’s ear, he asked for his safeword. Dean’s voice was deep and husky from disuse. He squared his shoulders, muscles shifting beautifully under his sun-kissed skin, and said it again. Castiel felt a small smile forming on his own lips. He was pleased by the way Dean tried to be proper, like a soldier or a very well-trained sub. He bristled up when Castiel asked him if he wanted to call it off. Castiel took it as a chance to test him, waiting if Dean takes the hint. He almost gave up when the silence stretched and all Dean did was chewing his lip nervously. Then he repeated his answer calling Cas “sir”. The Dom felt his heart drumming fast with excitement. Dean was a natural, used to get orders, eager to please.

Castiel straightened up and started walking in circles around his client, taking him in, trying to guess as much as he could about the man kneeling in front of him. He looked at the pile of clothes on the chair - a pair of worn out jeans and a plaid shirt folded neatly, a leather jacket draped over the back, a pair of heavy boots tucked under the chair. He looked back at Dean and it was like he could see his story written on his naked body. He would have bet all his money on daddy issues, Dean’s father must have been hard to please, probably had a military past, he’d raised Dean to be a manly man. There was a pretty fat chance Dean was still in the closet, therefore, coming here had been very brave of him. Castiel knew this kind of guys, pretending they’re straight and tough in normal life, some of them even had wives and kids and usually did traditionally masculine jobs, but in private they liked to wear lingerie and be dominated by another man.

“You look very nice in lingerie, Dean,” Castiel said and by the way Dean blushed he could tell that he was right when he guessed Dean would crave praise. Castiel felt proud of his ability to read people, it was very useful for him as a Dom to guess what worked for a certain client in a very short time.

The blush crept over Dean’s cheeks and neck tempting Castiel to touch. He reached his hand to trail the constellation of light freckles at the top of Dean’s spine with his fingertips, but immediately withdrew as the man flinched.

“Dean?” he tried to anchor the sub with his voice and it seemed to work as Dean took a steadying breath.

"I’m okay. It’s okay. It just startled me," he reassured. It made Castiel smile.

"That’s the magic of a blindfold. You never know where I’m going to touch you."

He touched him again, slow and soft, fingers trailing the shape of his collarbones and sliding lower.

Dean inhaled sharply and Castiel added _sensitive nipples_ to his list of things he found out about Dean so far.

"It also helps you let go of control. That’s why you chose it, right?"

A muscle in Dean’s jaw jumped and his whole body stiffened a little as if Castiel had just touched a raw nerve. Control was the important word here. Dean was used to having control over things and it weighed on him.

"No, I was just afraid I wouldn’t get hard if you were ugly." Castiel chuckled at the reply, adding _masking insecurities_ _with humor_ _and sarcasm_ to his mental list.

"Cheeky, I like," he said and used his knowledge of Dean’s sensitive nipples to make him squeal.

He actually liked Dean a lot. His reactions so far promised Cas that working with Dean would be nothing but pleasurable. And he was beautiful. His strong body and symmetric face peppered with freckles. But the most beautiful were his lips - plump, dark and beautifully shaped. Castiel praised him again and touched his lower lip with a thumb. His heart skipped a beat and his cock gave an interested twitch as the sub sucked his finger into his mouth. Castiel tried to reign his quickened breath but to no avail.

"Do you want me to fuck your mouth, Dean?" he heard himself ask before he could think about it. He was glad Dean couldn’t see how surprised he was by his own words. He hadn’t planned this, not for now at least. But god did he want it, he was already semi-hard in his pants which almost never happened so quickly. It was a bad sign, he was losing control.

The soft breathless way Dean said yes made him sure he couldn’t back off now. He had to at least get a better grasp on the situation.

Dean asked so nicely that Castiel didn’t hesitate and praised him again. Dean beamed with pride and took his cock almost too eagerly. Castiel tried to be gentle at first, but he lost himself at the feel of Dean’s mouth, at the pleased sound the sub made.

He came so hard it took his breath away, painting Dean’s face, marking him with his jizz. Shaking with aftershock he stared at the sub who swallowed hesitantly. He was gleaming, pleased and aroused and Castiel thought he never had such a beautiful creature in his hands. And he was all his to play, to use, to do whatever he pleased. It was a dangerous thought. Castiel would never hurt Dean, but he was enjoying this too much which meant he might do something unprofessional, too personal. Hell, he already did. He came before his client which he never did with newbies, only with regulars that he knew liked it. But there was something about Dean that gave Castiel confidence like he knew what he could and couldn’t do without asking.

With this thought, he found Dean’s phone and snapped a picture. He felt how uneasy it made him without Dean saying a single word. Castiel touched him softly and explained what he had done. The tension dissipated from Dean’s body in an instance.

Dean’s voice was raspy as he thanked him and Castiel couldn’t fight back a chuckle. He was lightheaded, happy and so pleased with his sub.

He cleaned Dean’s face, taking the blindfold off which was a risk, but Castiel knew Dean wouldn’t disobey. Some subs liked to provoke, to break the rules on purpose, to push their Doms’ buttons. Dean wasn’t like that, he wasn’t asking to get punished, he wanted to please.

As Castiel placed a clean blindfold over Dean’s face, he still marveled at what just happened. He fucked Dean’s mouth, not using any protection. Dean had to submit his negative test results and he’d been shown Castiel’s, but it was still irresponsible and unprofessional. It also felt incredibly good. Dean enjoyed it too if his cock straining the lacy underwear and staining it with precome was anything to go by.

Looking at Dean so good, so beautiful, so ready, Castiel made a decision. He was going to fuck him. It was not something he did often. The fact that his clients agreed with penetration didn’t mean he had to do that. He usually found other ways to please them since fucking them made him feel like a whore.

He was sure with Dean it was going to be different and he couldn’t resist even though he knew he should have.

He promised Dean to take him to bed and helped him to get up. He enjoyed the way the sub’s skin heated with each praise Castiel gave and the little show Dean made of stretching his beautiful body made Castiel want to touch and worship every part of him.

 

Dean seemed to relax when he splayed himself on the bed. Castiel crawled on top of him taking off his tie.

He smiled when Dean asked what he was using to tie him up and even more at Dean’s reaction. Using his own tie always did the trick. His clients liked him wearing his business suit, it was something associated with dominance.

Checking the bounds, he asked Dean for his safeword. The sub replied and gave him consent to continue, but there was something off. Castiel could feel that the sub was distracted.

"What is it, Dean?" he asked. He wanted Dean in the right headspace, focused. If there was something bothering him, he needed to know. "Tell me what’s going through your head."

Dean hesitated, probably contemplating if it was worse to lie or tell the truth. When he answered, it sounded shy like he was scared of Castiel’s reaction

"I’d like to touch you."

It was something Castiel could have expected, but it still stirred something in his chest and wrenched a soft chuckle out of him.

He stared at Dean’s lips, parted and shiny from being licked nervously. His quickened breath was mingling with Castiel’s in the small space between their faces.

Castiel’s chest constricted when he realized he wanted it too. He wanted to feel Dean’s hands digging into the muscles of his back, tangled in his hair. He wanted to kiss Dean, to see his eyes.

He shouldn’t have felt like this. It frightened him. It frightened him to the point when he wanted to call it off, to leave and let the club give Dean his money back.

But that would mean never seeing Dean again, never knowing what his skin tastes like, how does it feel to be buried deep inside him. The unreasonable, wild part of Castiel, that he had tried to tame all his life, told him he couldn’t live without knowing that.

Leaving Dean’s request unanswered, he straightened up, ignoring the way Dean craned his neck like he wanted to follow him, to chase his lips.

"You’re going to be a good boy and not come until I give you permission, right?"

"Yes, sir."

Castiel didn’t move for a few moments, letting Dean squirm with anticipation. He used the break to regain self-control and plan how he was going to proceed. His job was to make this good for Dean, he wasn’t allowed to be selfish. But he wanted to, oh how he wanted to screw all rules and make Dean his.

He shook himself and noticed that Dean was on a verge of begging, starved for touch.

He shredded his clothes off quickly, then leaned down to press a kiss to Dean’s hipbone. The sound Dean made and the way his hips bucked up were priceless.

Feeling a new wave of lust, but also more sure of his ability to control it, Castiel sucked Dean’s nipple into his mouth.

The sounds Dean made and the way he twitched and tugged at his ties only urged Castiel to give him more. He reacted to every touch so beautifully, almost violently, like he had never been touched like this before. It was when Dean thrust his hips up, pushing his cock deeper into Castiel’s mouth that the Dom realized it might actually be the case.

"Dean, will this be your first time bottoming?" Castiel asked, trying to sound like there’s nothing to be ashamed of, but judging by the way Dean bristled, it was to no avail.

Dean didn’t confirm Castiel’s assumption, that he didn’t bottom often, but his silence was enough. It also told Castiel that Dean didn’t want to be treated gently. Of course, it was something he had been thought made him weak, maybe even unmanly. Castiel wished he had enough time to prove him wrong, to teach him to enjoy being pampered and worshiped. But he couldn’t give the lesson tonight, so he promised Dean that he wouldn’t be gentle with him and he meant it.

He got off the bed to get lube and a condom. When he heard the sound Dean made, showing how much the sub needed him, Castiel’s cock twitched.

Dean was tense like a string, waiting for Castiel to play him. Castiel hurried as Dean’s anticipation started to turn into anxiety, his breathing getting faster.

He relaxed when Castiel returned to him on the bed and gave him instructions. The Dom took his place in front of Dean and took in the view. Dean’s legs spread and pressed to his chest, cock hard and flushed arching against his stomach, hole pink and tight, clutching around nothing. It was a breathtaking sight.

He took his time preparing Dean with two fingers slicked by Dean’s spit. The boy writhed and bit his lips, struggling not to break the rule of not talking. His reaction when Cas brushed his fingertips over his prostate was so violent Castiel had to jerk away to not get kicked. He scolded the sub and the boy took it as an opportunity to plead for Cas to hurry things up.

"You need to learn some patience, Dean," Castiel chastised.

The change in Dean’s mood was immediate. It was as if he withdrew himself into a shell. He had been so open, pliant like Castiel could almost touch his bare soul because it had been seeping through every pore of his body.

It was all gone now. Dean was still here, still ready to obey, but something was missing.

It took Castiel aback. He hadn’t even really scolded the sub, hadn’t said a word about punishment.

"Dean, I’m not angry with you," he assured. "I want you to enjoy this, but you have to relax."

"Yes, sir." Dean’s tone made Castiel’s chest clench. He was staring at the sub, at lost of what to do. Dean was punishing himself and Castiel had to get him out of the wrong headspace. With a sigh, he decided to distract him and give him something to be proud of.

Dean’s gasp when Castiel swallowed his cock was a proof that at least the first part of the plan was successful. The Dom fingered him while sucking him off, enjoying the way the sub fought to control himself. Every moan and stifled sob shoot straight to Castiel’s cock, the way Dean squirmed and writhed made him want to take the boy apart.

Dean’s body was shaking, his balls tightened and his cock throbbed in Castiel’s mouth. He was close, had been for some time, but now he really needed just the smallest push to get over the edge. It was the right time for Castiel to pull away. He withdrew his fingers, feeling Dean clench around them, trying to stop him. Dean’s cock slipped out of Castiel’s mouth, leaving a smear of spit and precome on his lips.

Castiel gave the sub a minute to gather himself after the loss of overwhelming sensations and another so he could realize how good he had been. He smiled when he saw Dean relax into the mattress, sated smile on his lips.

He did a quick check of Dean’s arms. His wrists were a bit sore from tugging at the restraints, but other than that, he seemed alright.

Castiel put a condom on and gave his cock a few quick strokes to slick it up with lube. He didn’t remember the last time he had been so aroused with a client.

He took his place on the bed and helped Dean wrap his legs around him. He enjoyed the feel of Dean’s stockings, as he stroked the sub’s muscled calves.

"Are you ready, Dean?" he asked as he lined himself up with Dean’s hole, slick and loosened.

"I’m ready when you say I am."

It would be a good submissive answer if not for the mocking undertone in Dean’s voice.

"So cheeky," Castiel hissed and pushed in.

The ring of muscles gave in easily and the wet heat embraced him. His eyes fell shut as he sank deeper into Dean’s body, holding his hips, his nylon-clad legs rubbing the back of his thighs.

When he opened his eyes again and saw Dean with his head thrown back, mouth agape gasping for breath and back arching from the bed, he felt like every ounce of control he managed to preserve was slipping between his fingers.

Dean’s body felt like heaven and Castiel didn’t even have the strength to feel embarrassed at how his voice shook when he asked Dean if he was okay.

He felt a surge of pride when the sub admitted he needed a moment. Castiel dropped his head on Dean’s chest. He could hear the man’s frantic heartbeat.

He wanted to move, to fuck into Dean, to make him come undone and fall apart himself and then put them both back together.

When he felt Dean’s legs tightening around him, pulling him deeper, he took it as a sign that Dean was ready.

He swept a strand of sweat-damp hair from Dean’s forehead, taking in his flushed cheeks and shiny lips. He wished he could see Dean’s eyes.

When he started to move, he didn’t hold back. He had promised Dean he wouldn’t baby him and kept his word.

"Dean, you feel so good, look so pretty spread on my cock," he praised between thrusts.

What his words did to Dean was just as good as what Castiel hitting his prostate did. He let out the sweetest sounds, so obscene, so unrestrained. Castiel wondered if anyone ever had heard Dean like this and the thought that he might be the only one almost made him lose it.

Dean was close too. Castiel could tell by the way he huffed his breath out in soft moans and his legs fell more open, thighs trembling. He had no control over himself, he wasn’t even trying to obey Castiel’s orders to not come.

It made something in Castiel fall back in place. He was able to focus, to control each movement as he slowed down so he could keep Dean exactly on the edge.

Feeling Dean in this desperate, yet blissed state made his blood thrum in his veins. He felt strong and at peace, perfect, but not losing himself in the feeling like a moment ago. With a wide grin, he touched his sub, trying to take in every inch of him, to taste his skin, breathe in his moans. All while rolling his hips in slow circles that made Dean crazy.

Dean stopped biting his lip, his mouth fell agape, breath hitched in his throat and his whole body shuddered.

"Hold on, Dean. Just a little longer," Castiel said, voice rough. "I know you can do it for me, Dean." He meant it, he trusted Dean not to disappoint him.

Proving that he was right, Dean clenched around him, forcing him to stifle a moan of his own.

All the pleasure being buried deep in Dean was bringing him had been forgotten the second Dean tugged at the tie wrapped around his wrists and hissed in pain.

Castiel didn’t think, just automatically reached for the knot and untied it.

The moment they were freed, Dean’s hands were on him. Skimming down his back, raking through his hair. He shouldn’t have allowed it. But it felt so good like it was the last thing that had been missing to perfection.

When Dean grabbed Castiel’s ass, his hips bucking up to take him even deeper, and pressed his soft lips to Castiel’s collarbone, the Dom’s self-control was gone like a morning mist.

He made desperate sounds as he fucked Dean hard and fast, his rhythm unsteady as the pleasure got almost too much.

It should have worried him, but he didn’t care. He knew this all was closer to making love than anything he’d experienced in years and even though it was terrifying, he let his feelings overcome him.

 When the fire in his belly threatened to burn him alive and his heart felt like a swarm of hummingbirds trapped in his chest, he leaned down and finally did what he’d been dreaming about since he saw Dean. Dean’s lips were just as soft as Castiel had expected and Dean kissed back vigorously.

"Come for me, Dean," Castiel whispered with a thrust that nailed Dean’s prostate. Dean obeyed happily and fell over the edge.

Castiel drank him in, the sound he made, how he threw his head back as he painted his own stomach white, how he dug his nails into Castiel’s skin.

Castiel’s own orgasm punched through him, surprising him with its force. Dean’s name rolled off his lips like a benediction.

When the waves of pleasure washed away, he collapsed on top of Dean, feeling like it was impossible to keep his body upright. He listened to Dean’s heartbeat, hard and strong, and basked in the warmth of his body. His heart fluttered as he realized Dean was rubbing his back soothingly.

He pulled out carefully, but Dean groaned and shivered anyway.

"Shhh, I’ll be right back," he promised before he left to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and grab a washcloth.

When he returned, Dean was curled up on himself, a ghost of a smile on his lips. He’d been beautiful when he had been kneeling on the floor, he’d been stunning when he’d came on Castiel’s cock, but he was the most beautiful like this. Sated and happy.

Castiel crawled on the bed and cleaned Dean up, then he took his time to rub away all kinks that had formed in Dean’s neck and shoulders while he had been tied up.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Tired," Dean yawned, "happy," he added.

"That’s good," Castiel murmured, the same emotions making his heart sing. He pressed a soft kiss to Dean’s hair, inhaling his scent.

"You did great, Dean. You deserve that."

This time the praise didn’t have such a prominent impact on Dean, he just hummed. To the Dom’s surprise, he reached for his hand. Castiel’s heart skipped a beat when Dean kissed his knuckles.

"Thank you, sir. For everything."

It hurt. In that moment Castiel felt so much his body wasn’t able to contain all of it and it hurt. It hurt even more because he knew it had to end very soon.

"So you got what you came for?" he asked, hoping that Dean couldn’t hear how constricted his throat was.

"I didn’t get what I expected. But I did get what I needed."

Castiel hid a proud smile into Dean’s back.

"I have to go now, Dean," he said after a moment of comfortable silence, ignoring how his chest clenched.

He focused on Dean, giving him instructions, making him promise to take care of himself.

"But do you really have to leave?" Dean piped up.

"Yes. Unless you want something else from me."

It apparently surprised the sub, like he didn’t realize he was a paying client here, like he didn’t understand Castiel would have done anything to please him.

Dean stayed silent, thinking it through carefully.

"I want to look at you," he said eventually.

Of course, he had to ask for the only thing Castiel couldn’t grant him. The Dom shook his head resolutely.

"That’s not possible, Dean. You chose this, you have to stick with it." It wasn’t the only reason, though. Castiel knew he’d already stepped in a dangerous territory, if he took this one step further, there would be no way back.

When Dean spoke again, it almost sounded like he was fighting back tears.

"Then kiss me again."

Castiel’s heart made a flip. He stared at the man and felt the strange ache in his chest again like there was a rope protruding from his heart and Dean was tugging at it. Castiel had to cut it off.

"Alright. But it will be a goodbye kiss."

Dean didn’t protest. He curled in the blanket Castiel draped over him and just waited while the Dom got dressed.

When he was decent, his tie clenched in his fist, he looked at Dean once again.

It felt so wrong to be leaving him like this. Not to take care of him.

Dean was good, so very good and deserving only the best, Castiel hated letting him go back to the outer world that didn’t treat him like the precious gem he was.

He knelt beside the bed.

 "You’re a good boy, Dean," he said softly. "You’re perfect. Don’t let anyone tell you any different." Dean nodded because he was just so good.

"Goodbye, Dean," Castiel forced himself to say, surprised how steady he managed to keep his voice.

He kissed Dean softly, almost chaste.

When he left the room, he felt empty, like someone just ripped something off his chest.

\------------------

It´s been days. The feeling has subdued, but it hasn´t disappeared. It´s making Castiel feel like an idiot. He´s been a professional Dom for how long? A short over two years and he never got so attached to a client. But Dean... something about Dean makes it impossible for Cas to get him out of his head.

He catches himself fantasizing about him, about all the things they could have had together. It makes his life complicated, which is something he hates. He likes things simple, organized, he likes the calm in his head when he works with numbers in his accounting job, or when he´s with a client.

Now he drifts off to the world of silly fantasies over taxes. When one of the subs he´s working with makes a mistake, he can´t stop himself from thinking about Dean and if he would do the same.

When his distracted mind causes a major mistake that he and his coworker Alfie spend hours to fix, he loses patience with himself. He blames it on sickness, cancels all his appointments and takes a few days off in hopes that he´ll get himself together. On his way home he passes a small book and record shop.

The shop is quite new, he remembers there used to be a hardware store before, but it was closed as long as he remembers. He´s glad somebody finally bought the place. With a thought of a good book that could calm his mind he enters. The little chimes over the door startle him a bit, but not as much as the sight of the man behind the counter.

He isn´t blindfolded and he´s wearing a red plaid shirt instead of delicate lingerie, but Castiel would recognize those lips and strong jawline anywhere. He´s been dreaming about them for over a week.

Dean looks up to check out the newcomer and Castiel can´t think of a better thing to do than hiding between the bookcases. He feels like an even bigger idiot when he realizes Dean has never seen him, therefore he can´t recognize him.

Castiel decides to use it to his advantage and pretending he´s searching for a book, watches the man.

He´s exactly what Castiel expected. Friendly and charming, effortlessly flirting with his female customers. He seems confident, sure with himself. Castiel bets none of the people who talk with him could imagine him the way Castiel knows him.

It only makes Castiel more attracted to him. They´re exact opposites. Castiel is shy and reserved, a bit insecure around people. He never strikes people as an experienced Dom.

He realizes he´s been staring openly when Dean´s eyes meet his. He quickly steps further between the shelves and grabs a book, but as soon as he thinks Dean isn´t looking at him, he turns his head in his direction again.

All the other customers have left and Dean lets his mask slip a bit. He seems upset, lost in thoughts, like he´s thinking of a better place to be. Something flutters in Castiel´s chest when he notices that Dean is rubbing his wrist unwittingly.

That´s what gives Castiel the courage needed to walk to the counter. The fact they´re alone helps, it´s almost like they´re back in the bedroom.

He waits until Dean looks up at him, breathing steadily, heart beating hard in his chest.

Dean finally raises his head. His eyes are green, a beautiful shade of green, and they´re so bright it seems like the light of Dean´s soul is shining through.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel says with a hint of a smile. It feels like the world around them has stopped.

Dean stares at him. Pretty lips parted, eyes wide. Castiel´s chest constricts when he realizes that what he´s seeing might be not only shock but fear.

But then Dean´s moving, walking around the counter and stepping right into Castiel´s space.

"It´s you," he breathes out. His eyes are fixed on Cas like he´s scared that if he blinks, the man in front of him disappears.

Castiel nods, throat too tight to speak.

Dean gives him a once over then, his eyes stop on the blue tie around his neck and there´s no doubt he´s wondering if it´s the same tie he´s been closely acquainted with.

When Dean rips his eyes off the piece of blue fabric, it´s to check their surroundings, to make sure they´re still alone.

"May I touch you?" he blurts out, eyes back on Cas.

Castiel swallows. He didn´t expect such reaction. It makes all memories of his time spent with Dean rush back to his mind.

He nods. Dean hesitates a little, then his hands slide gently up Cas´ chest. He grabs the lapels of Castiel´s coat and leans down, waiting for Cas to give a tiny nod of consent. With eyes closed, he presses his lips to Castiel´s.

Castiel opens for him, letting his tongue explore. Dean´s hands wander up Castiel´s neck and into his hair. It´s like Dean´s making sure it´s really him using only the senses he was allowed to use last time.

"What are you doing here?" he asks when they part. He looks dazzled like he just woke up and a pleasant dream is still hanging on his eyelashes.

Castiel feels a pang of fear. "I swear it was a coincidence!" he declares hurriedly.

"I wasn´t following you. I came to buy a book and then I saw you and... I don´t normally contact my clients."

Dean frowns "So why did you make an exception for me?" His hand that´s been resting on Castiel´s shoulder slips off. Castiel misses the touch immediately.

"You´re different," Castiel answers and before he can stop himself, he continues. "I want you to be mine-" he chokes a bit on the word and the rest comes out a bit stuttered. "I never had a personal sub. Just clients. No one has ever felt right. But you, Dean... you´re a natural."

Dean raises an eyebrow, which makes Castiel realize how stupid it sounds. How stupid it was to even address Dean in the first place.

"You want me to be your sub?" Dean asks.

"Forget about it. I´m sorry, I didn´t want to bother you," Castiel mumbles, turning away to leave.

Dean grabs his shoulder. "I didn´t say no."

Castiel looks at him, unsure if he heard right.

"But I don´t know what does it even mean? Just sex? Or a relationship?"

Castiel lets out a breath he didn´t know he was holding. "We need to discuss that. Somewhere else." He looks around. "If you want," he adds.

Dean stares at him for a moment that feels like an eternity. Then he nods.

"I close at seven."

"It´s two hours. Alright. Meet me at the diner on the end of the street. You know which one?"

"Yes. Alright. I´ll be there."

Castiel gives him a smile. He feels strangely light like he could spread his arms and fly.

“Wait!” Dean stops him on his way to the door. Castiel turns around slowly, then he realizes he´s still holding the book he picked up when he was stalking Dean. It´s something about Fate.

“Oh, I should pay for this," he says, showing Dean the book.

Dean shakes his head. "Just take it."

Castiel thanks him, waiting to get to know why Dean stopped him.

“What´s your name?” Dean asks. A soft chuckle escapes Castiel´s lips. He forgot that Dean doesn´t know.

“Castiel.”

Dean´s eyebrows shoot up. “Is it your real name or a Dom name?”

“It´s my real name,” Castiel answers with a faint blush on his cheeks. “My parents were… unconventional.”

Dean nods in understanding. “Alright. See you at ten past seven, Castiel.”

 


	3. Something About Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should all send your thank yous to Alice19, my new beta and the amazing person responsible for this chapter being ready for publishing so soon!

 

The soft clinking of the chimes over the door is the only sign that the guy was actually here. If not for that, Dean would believe it was just a dream. Because what’s the chance that the Dom he can’t stop thinking about just walks into his shop on a Tuesday afternoon and makes him an offer?

He shivers a bit and walks to the safety behind the counter where he huddles on a chair, arms wrapped around himself. He feels like he should be seeing warning lights and hearing sirens. The guy wants him as a sub. What does it even mean? All he can imagine is the bullshit they write about in bad books - signing a dubious contract and becoming a sex slave. Is that what the man had in mind?

Dean forces himself to take a deep breath. The Dom wanted to discuss it which means there’s more than one option, right? And there might be one he likes. If not, he will politely reject.

But part of him wishes there is such an option, because... because he was dreaming about this. About the man who took him apart feeling something more to him than what he feels toward his other clients. He wished he was special and now when he knows he is somehow, it scares him. It scares him and excites him.

On top of all this Dean even in his wildest dreams didn’t imagine the Dom - Castiel - looking like this. He knew about his wild hair and stubble, but the visual he made from what he was able to perceive was colorless so he didn't imagine him with either fair or dark hair. Castiel’s hair was dark and it made a stark contrast with his eyes. Those eyes were what caught Dean by surprise. He couldn’t stop looking into them, he couldn’t focus on anything because the universe was reduced to those pools of infinite blue.

Dean shakes his head. Well, the guy fucked him well, that doesn’t mean he needs to write odes to his eyes, right?

He needs to be rational, to talk with the guy, make sure he’s not a psycho.

And maybe, just maybe, they will figure something out. They should at least have sex once more. To find out if it feels as good as the last time. For science.

Dean sighs and looks at his watch. There’s still a lot of time until he can close the shop.

 

When the time finally comes Dean has turned the thought over and over in his head a thousand times, looking at it from all possible angles. He’s even managed to convince himself that the guy wasn’t _that_ attractive. When he’s closing the shop, he’s still not sure whether he should go to meet the guy or not. But the diner is on his way home so he still has some time to decide.

He stops in front of the bright lit door of the diner and through the window sees the guy - Castiel, he corrects himself - sitting alone in a booth, fumbling with a menu. He looks nervous and Dean feels an unexpected closeness to him. Maybe he’s just as unsure about this as Dean is.

His deep voice echoes in Dean’s head. _I don’t usually do this. You’re different._

Dean wants it to be true. He wants to be special for someone. And the Dom already made him feel special once.

As if he’s diving into water, Dean takes a deep breath and opens the door.

When a pretty hostess approaches him, he points at Castiel and tells her he’s with him. She shoots him a knowing smile and leaves.

His heart is hammering against his breastbone like he’s just ran a marathon when he stops by the booth.

"Hey," he says, hoping his voice doesn’t give away how constricted his throat feels.

Castiel’s eyes shoot up to him, they’re dark blue like deep water and wide with surprise.

"You came," he breathes out and blinks like he’s afraid that Dean is just an illusion.

It gives Dean a bit of confidence so he smiles and takes a seat across the table from the man who’s still staring like he can’t believe his own eyes.

"You thought I’d ditch you?"

Castiel rubs the back of his neck nervously, smiling shyly. "Well, yes. I thought that when you had time to think about it, you found my offer...creepy."

Dean huffs out a laugh. "To be honest, I did. I still do, but I decided I should at least give it a shot."

He ignores the strange look the man gives him and snatches the menu from his fingers.

"Did you decide what you want to eat?" he asks, opening the menu even though he already knows what he wants.

"No," Castiel sighs. "I was so nervous I couldn’t focus on actually reading the menu," he admits and Dean finds it somewhat endearing.

"They have mean bacon cheeseburgers," he offers, actually kinda testing the guy.

He nods with a smile. "Then bacon cheeseburger it is."

Dean can’t hide his answering smile as he slams the menu on the table.

"Beer?"

Castiel shakes his head. "No, thanks. I don’t drink."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "You don’t drink?"

When Cas drops his eyes again, Dean curses himself for being tactless. It’s not a polite question and he should have known better.

"It... it makes me lose control and I hate the feeling."

The answer surprises Dean so much he has to focus on keeping his mouth shut.

It’s weird, it’s definitely weird and it reminds Dean of how he met the guy and that this isn’t just a date.

The waitress saves them from a moment of awkward silence when she comes to take their order.

"So... let’s get to the point. Are you going to make me sign some kind of a contract?" Dean blurts out the moment the waitress leaves.

Castiel lets out a soft chuckle, the sound makes shivers run up Dean’s spine.

"We’re not in a badly written book, Dean," he says with a smile. "You asked me whether I offer you a relationship or... well it would still be a relationship of sorts."

Dean nods. "Boyfriend and a sub, or just a sub."

"Exactly. And it’s only up to you. If you decide for the latter option, it would be very similar to what our relationship was when you came to the club as my client. The only change would be that you wouldn’t pay and we would meet in a private place. My apartment, if you don’t mind, or we could rent a hotel room if you prefer." He stops because the waitress comes with their drinks. He sips his soda before he continues.

"We would discuss in advance what we want to do during the scene. I would make sure you are taken care of after, then we would part. No strings attached other than those between a Dom and his sub."

Dean feels his heart in his throat and tries to wash the feeling away with a gulp of beer. It doesn’t work.

"I’m not sure if I know what these are," he starts, staring at the table between them. "You know I’m pretty new to this. It was... it was actually my first time with you." He dares to look up only to see a soft smile on Castiel’s lips, his eyes are very serious, though.

"I know. I can teach you. Help you find what you’re comfortable with and where your limits are.”

"Fine," Dean nods and takes another sip. He hopes Castiel doesn’t judge him for calming his nerves with alcohol. "Because on the list that I had to go through for our... session? There was a lot of things I didn’t know what they meant and I’m sure some of them I’d rather never find out."

Castiel’s smile brightens with amusement. "The fact that they were stated there doesn’t mean I do them. If you’d chosen something I don’t do, you would have been assigned another Dom."

"Oh, I see."

"I have a feeling that we would be very compatible in what we like, but finding out is part of what makes it fun." His eyes get an almost predatory glint to them, Dean relaxes a bit anyway. That lasts only until he asks another question - the one that makes him more nervous than all the kinky stuff.

"And if I choose the other option? To be your boyfriend?" the word sticks in his throat and it becomes almost unintelligible as he chokes it out.

This time it’s Castiel who averts his eyes.

"Well, then I suggest we get to know each other first. A few dates?" he raises his eyebrow like he’s not sure if he used the right word.

"And then I guess it would be much more... spontaneous. We would still discuss everything of course, but... we would be together out of the scenes too so it would be different."

His eyes finally meet Dean’s again and they’re unexpectedly soft. Dean spends a moment thinking that he will never stop being surprised by how blue they are. He feels like he could drown in them.

"And you would like that?" he hears himself asking.

"Yes." Castiel’s pretty lips barely move as he breathes out the world. Then the magical connection of their eyes is lost because Castiel looks away and Dean notices with a surprise that the Dom is blushing.

"But I haven’t dated anyone in years. I’m afraid I’m very bad at it."

A relieved laughter bubbles on Dean’s lips as he reaches over the table and pats Castiel’s hand, not really aware of doing so.

"Don’t worry, I probably wouldn’t notice. I’m not very experienced in that field myself."

Cas shoots him a thankful yet shy smile and Dean’s heart gives a hard thud.

He withdraws his hand, his fingertips are burning with the lost contact.

"But there are some things you should know," he says, suddenly nervous again.

Castiel encourages him to continue with a nod.

"I’m bisexual," Dean says, trying to sound like saying it doesn’t make his stomach twist. "And I’m... I’m kinda still in the closet." It makes him feel like an idiot so he explains.

"I mean I’m okay with it, kinda, but I didn’t tell my family and most of my friends."

Part of him expects to find mocking in Castiel’s eyes, but there’s nothing but understanding and support.

"Dean, I don’t care who you are attracted to as long as I fall in that category." Cas smiles and Dean feels a corner of his lips twitch into an answering smile. Of course, he’s attracted to Castiel, hell he might be one of the most attractive people he’s ever met. Despite his ugly trench coat.

"And as your boyfriend, I would support you when you decide to come out to your family, even whether you decide not to."

Dean stopped breathing after the words _your boyfriend_ left Castiel’s lips.

"So?" Cas asks when Dean keeps staring at him without a word.

"So is this our first date?"

Castiel looks like he’s trying to fight back a grin and he’s failing.

"You decided?"

Dean lets out a breath and it sounds a bit like a chuckle. He feels a bit lightheaded.

"I don’t know," he admits, running his hand through his hair.

"I still can’t really imagine it."

"If you have any questions, I’ll try to answer them as well as I can."

 Dean is thankful for the distraction in the form of their food coming that gives him time to think.

Castiel moans around the first bite of his burger and Dean catches himself thinking that yes, he can imagine dating this guy.

"So, did you think of anything?" Cas asks when he wolfs down half of his burger and Dean hasn’t even touched his.

"Yeah uhm... what about other clients? Will you keep your work?"

Castiel tilts his head to one side.

"I can stop if you want me to."

Dean shakes his head vehemently. "I-I can’t make you give up your job!"

Cas chuckles deeply. "It’s not my only job, Dean. It would be nice if working at the club could pay the bills, but it doesn’t."

Dean raises an eyebrow. "You have a normal job? What is it?"

"I’m an accountant."

Dean chokes on laughter. "What? Really? Isn’t it like super boring? Is that why you’re a Dom in your free time?"

Castiel frowns at the french fry he’s turning in his fingers.

"I like my job. I like numbers, they’re predictable. I know what I can expect from them and they always do what I want."

"Wow, you really are a control freak," Dean says without thinking and he feels like smacking his own mouth afterward.

Castiel looks up at him, he’s serious, but not angry.

"Yes, I am, Dean. You should know that. I may tend to act dominantly even out of the bedroom. If it makes you uncomfortable, you have to tell me."

Dean nods, realizing that there’s no _if_ anymore. They’re not discussing if they’ll date, they’re setting up conditions. It makes his head spin and his heart race but to his surprise, he doesn’t feel the familiar need to run away.

"It still doesn’t feel right to tell you to stop doing what you do, just because of me."

Castiel smiles, but it’s somewhat unhappy. "You should learn that you can ask me to do or stop doing anything. But let’s agree that I will continue working with other subs, but I won’t have sex with them. Does it sound alright?"

"You can refuse to have sex with them?" Dean asks, not really sure how the session would look without sex.

He earns himself another head tilt. "Of course. I actually don’t have sex with my clients very often." His cheeks get a pretty tint of pink as he says that. "There are other ways to satisfy my clients."

Dean feels his own cheeks getting hot at the mention that he really was some kind of an exception.

"And what about us? Will we... will we always do the Dom/sub stuff?"

"Do you need it to get off?" Cas asks, making Dean blush even more and shake his head.

"Neither do I. I’m perfectly alright with vanilla sex." He pops a fry into his mouth and washes it down with soda.

"You need to understand, Dean, that with me it’s not that much about the physical. Definitely not about pain even though I might play with that sometimes." Dean feels a weird flutter in his stomach and he’s not sure if it’s the good kind or the bad.

"For me, it’s more about control. About taking it... no," he shakes his head and corrects himself, "about receiving it from someone who gives it up for me." Dean can see how his pupils dilate and his breathing quickens as he thinks about it. It makes his dick twitch and that’s definitely good.

Dean finishes his drink then he takes a breath, but before he says anything, Castiel beats him to it.

"Take some time to think about it. Sleep on it at least. I don’t want you to make a hasty decision. Of course, you can back off anytime, but I... I’d rather not have my hopes too high."

Dean bites his lip, realizing that the guy is afraid of getting his heart broken. It’s endearing and frightening at the same time.

"Castiel?" he says after a moment of heavy silence. Blue eyes immediately find his. "What makes you sure that _you_ will like me?"

Castiel smiles and his eyes flutter shut for a short moment like he’s remembering a pleasant taste.

"I’ve met a lot of people, Dean, and none of them was like you. No one has ever reacted so... so strongly, yet so correctly like you did." His gaze is so intense Dean feels like it’s setting his skin on fire.

"I felt like I could see inside of you and I liked what I saw."

He lowers his gaze and Dean notices his long dark lashes. "But of course I can be wrong. Maybe we will make a terrible pair," he says with a smile. Dean huffs out a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the butterflies filling his stomach.

He wants to believe it, he wants Castiel to be right about them.

 

They finish their burgers and order some pie. They don’t discuss their possible future anymore. It goes like a quite good unofficial first date.

Dean talks about his job, not getting into much details of how he ended up here, but talking about his love for books and records and how he’s afraid shops like his will disappear because everybody prefers to download their stuff. Castiel assures him that he’ll always rather buy a hard copy and they talk about their favorites, exchanging some recommendations. They somehow end up talking about religion and Castiel says he’s been raised in a very religious family, but he found his own faith. Dean feels that just like him before, Castiel is dancing around some details he’s not ready to share. He doesn’t pry, it actually makes him feel a bit closer to the man.

Castiel remains a mystery, though. He’s so different from what Dean expected. He’s gentle, almost shy. When Dean flirts with him openly, he seems genuinely surprised and at loss for how to react. It’s endearing just as much as the spark in his eyes when he talks about something he’s passionate about is fascinating.

Sometimes Dean catches himself not really listening to what Castiel is saying and just staring at him- watching how his lips curl around words, especially Dean’s name, staring at his wide hands, remembering how they touched him, wondering if he left scratches on this man’s back. He even closes his eyes for a moment, just enjoying the rumble of Castiel’s voice without the distraction of other senses.

That’s when gentle fingers touch the back of his hand. He jerks his hand away and opens his eyes to see a guilty looking Castiel.

"I’m so sorry, I didn’t-"

Dean shakes his head to cut him off. He looks around. There’s no one he knows in there, he should be alright with holding another guy’s hand, but his stomach is twisted into knots anyway.

"No, I’m sorry," he sighs. "Maybe next time?" he says aware of the hint of promise.

Castiel’s lips twitch into a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" he asks suddenly and Dean realizes they both finished their drinks and that it’s actually quite late.

"Uhm, no, thanks. My car is parked around the corner. But I can give you a lift?"

Castiel smiles. "No, thanks, I live nearby, I’d rather walk."

"Alright then," Dean nods and smiles at the waitress passing by to get her attention. They split the bill and walk out of the diner.

"I had a good time," Dean says into the heavy silence as they walk to his car.

"I’m glad to hear that, Dean. I enjoyed your company very much."

Dean stops next to his baby and leans against her side while he fishes for the keys.

"This is your car?" Castiel asks with raised eyebrow.

Dean grins proudly. "This is my baby. She´s pretty, isn´t she?"

"Yes, it’s a very nice car," Castiel says, fighting back laughter.

"What’s so funny?" Dean asks, smiling himself, Castiel’s face doesn’t show emotion very often but when it does, it’s contagious.

"Nothing just-" he throws his head back, huffing out a laugh, then takes a deep breath.

"Impala. Your car and your-"

"My safeword, yeah," Dean rubs the back of his neck, blushing.

"I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh," Castiel shakes his head. "But I thought you were just so fond of the animal," he chuckles again and Dean hears himself laughing too.

"I found it a little weird, to be honest," he adds, eyes sparkling, and they both laugh again.

When they calm down, they’re standing very close, Dean still against the side of the car and Cas beside him, their bodies turned towards each other so they share personal space. Cas’ breath, still quickened from the fit of laughter, brushes hot over Dean’s face. It smells of apples and cinnamon and all Dean can think of in that moment is whether the pink lips taste of apple pie too.

"Good night, Dean," the deep voice rumbles, snapping Dean out of his daydream.

"Take your time to think over what we talked about." Castiel pushes himself off the side of the car and heads away, leaving Dean staring after him with a dull ache in his chest. 

* * *

 

Dean can’t sleep. He´s tossing and turning in his bed, thinking about Castiel - Cas as he started to call him in his head sometime during dinner. He wonders if he used the nickname out loud. Does Castiel like it? Or does he prefer something else?  What if he insists on being called sir at all times?

He kicks the covers off, suddenly too hot, and flops on his belly.

It‘s weird, he knows how it feels to meet someone he gets along well with, picturing what sex with them would be like. With Cas it’s the other way round, he knows that the sex was mindblowing and is dreaming about dating the guy. It makes him feel like a teenage girl and he hates it. He hates that Castiel gave him time to think. If he had demanded a reply in the diner, Dean would have said yes. But Cas didn’t want him to make a hasty decision so Dean thinks about it too much. And why exactly? It’s not like he’s signing up to spending the rest of his life with the guy, right? They can break up like any other couple, despite their uncommon way of getting together.

When Cas talked about how he studied different religions and what he believed in, he didn’t say he thought their meeting at the shop had had something to do with fate, but Dean could read between the lines. He doesn’t believe in destiny, but if he did, this would pretty much look like some higher power wanted them to meet. The thought is a bit unsettling for him so he chases it away and switches to thinking about the heat of Castiel’s body when they were standing so close right before they parted. Why didn’t he kiss him? He should have. Maybe he expected Cas to do it.

He licks his lips and rolls to his side, his gaze falls to his phone lying on the bedside table.

They exchanged numbers during dinner and Dean finds himself staring at the screen with Cas’ name on it. It’s almost 1 am. He shouldn’t call this late. He shouldn’t call at all, he’s going to seem desperate. But he kind of is. He feels like nothing can calm him down except talking to Cas again.

He clicks the dial button and his heart skips a beat when he hears the beep and realizes what he’s done. He’s considering hanging up before Cas answers but it would probably only make things worse.

"Dean?" Castiel’s voice is husky like he’s been gargling razor blades. The only time Dean has heard him sound like this was when he was close to an orgasm. The thought makes Dean’s throat dry and he rasps in reply. "Hey."

He feels like an idiot.

"Dean, did something happen?" Cas asks. There’s shuffling of sheets in the background. The concern in Castiel’s voice makes Dean feel even worse.

"No, no I just - fuck, Cas, I’m sorry I woke you up."

"It’s alright, Dean," he says, but sounds like he’s fighting back a yawn. "Just tell me why you’re calling."

That’s the problem, he doesn’t know.

"I can’t stop thinking about you." That’s the closest to the truth he can get without sounding utterly pathetic.

He hears a smile in Cas’ voice. "And what exactly do you think about?"

Dean’s body seems to react to Cas’ voice without Dean’s approval, his breath and heartbeat are getting faster.

"Uh. I tried to... to imagine us together. It’s hard."

"Hm," Cas hums and Dean pictures him rolling on his bed.

"Then maybe you need to work on your imagination." He’s using his bedroom voice now, Dean knows it and he hates that it works so well on him.

"Do you want me to help you with that?" Cas asks suggestively and Dean breathes out "Yes" before he can really think about it.

"You’re in your bed?"

Dean hums his affirmative, he’s trembling with anticipation.

"What are you wearing?"

Dean looks at himself and thinks of lying, of saying that he’s naked or wearing some pretty panties. Then he decides not to make it any easier for the other man and opts for the truth.

"A t-shirt and boxers."

Cas pauses just for a moment, maybe making himself comfortable.

"If I was there, I would tease your nipples through the soft fabric of your shirt. That’s one of the first things I noticed about you - beside that you’re damn beautiful and look great on your knees - that you have sensitive nipples."

Dean gulps and listens silently, the compliment makes something flutter in his chest.

"Would you do that for me, Dean? Brush your thumb over your nipple, just softly. Do it now."

Holding his breath, Dean does just so. Imagining it’s Castiel teasing him. He lets out a frustrated sound when the touch isn’t enough.

"Want more, Dean?" Cas asks without a hint of mocking. Dean doesn’t have to actually answer for the Dom to continue.

"You can touch yourself under your shirt. Rub your nipples between your thumb and index finger. Imagine it’s me touching you."

Dean pushes the hem of his shirt away and slides his hand up his chest, he knows Castiel didn’t say anything about it, but he craves the touch. When he pinches the hard nub with his fingers his breath hisses between his teeth and Cas must hear it, because he reacts as if he could actually see Dean.

"You like that, right? Me playing with your nipple."

"Yes," Dean moans, brushing the pad of his thumb over said nipple, hard and sensitive.

"Do you want to continue this, Dean?" Cas asks, bringing Dean back to reality.

"I do," he answers without hesitation.

"Alright. You have one minute to get undressed and grab some lube. Then I want you on your back on the bed and you’ll tell me you’re ready."

"Yes, sir," the address slips off his lips naturally and Cas hums contently as a sign that he noticed.

Dean drops his phone on the bed and hurries to rip his clothes off.

When he’s pulling a tube of lube out of the drawer it hits him, he’s going to have phone sex with Cas and there’s nothing in the world he would want more, except maybe having real sex with Cas.

"I’m here," he says when he grabs his phone again, splayed naked on his back. For a moment he’s afraid Cas has hung up, then he hears his voice and a wave of calm spreads through his body.

"Good boy. Are you hard yet?" The answer surprises him a bit and he considers lying again, but like any other time with Castiel, he decides against it.

"Not yet."

"Good. I want you to place your free hand on the bed next to your head."

"Okay," Dean says a bit unsure, but he obeys.

"I don’t want you to touch yourself, Dean. Just imagine everything I tell you."

Dean gulps, it’s going to be hard. He squeezes his eyes shut so he can focus on Castiel’s voice. He nods and realizes that the other man can’t see him.

"Alright."

"If I was there," Castiel starts, "I would touch and kiss every inch of your perfect body. I would start at you ankles and trail kisses up to your knees."

Dean imagines the touch, deft fingers wrapped around his ankle and soft lips pressed to his skin. He would never think himself able of such imagination, but with Castiel’s voice leading, it’s easy.

"I would gently massage your calves while kissing the underside of your knee. Then I would continue with your inner thighs."

Dean shivers, spreading his legs instinctively, making space for a lover that isn’t there.

"I would spend a lot of time there, kissing and nibbling, scraping my teeth on the sensitive skin, rubbing my cheeks against your thighs."

Dean lets out a soft sound as he imagines the feel of Castiel’s stubble and shivers again.

"Then when I would have enough, I would find the pulse point in your groin and feel your heartbeat under my lips."

Dean’s heart picks up its pace at the words and he almost finds it funny. He doesn’t laugh, though, focused on Castiel’s words.

"I would ignore your hardening cock and kiss your belly instead. I would dip my tongue in your belly button. I’d count your ribs with my lips, my fingers wrapped around your hips, holding you tight."

Dean moans and his hips buck up towards the inexistent touch.

"I would travel up your chest and play with your nipples again, this time with my mouth."

Dean’s free hand twitches, he wants to touch himself, but at the last moment, he remembers that he isn’t allowed.

"I would kiss your neck, breathing you in. And maybe, I would suck a bit harder right there, behind your ear, making a _mark_."

Dean’s heart skips a beat at the way Castiel says the last word.

"Would you want me to mark you, Dean? To bite and suck dark bruises to your skin for everybody to see? For everybody to know what I do to you, what you _let me_ do to you?"

Dean can hardly hear him over the sound of his own beating heart.

"Yes," he breathes out.

"Tell me, Dean, what would you like?"

"Mark me," Dean says, barely more than a whisper. He doesn’t believe his own words, but he knows they’re true. He’s staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, desperate for having Cas’ marks.

"I would," Cas sighs. "I will," he corrects himself. Dean hears himself breathing out in relief.

"Are you hard for me, Dean?"

"Yes," Dean answers and shifts on the bed. His whole body screams for touch.

"I want you to touch yourself for me, Dean."

"Fuck yes."

Cas answers with a deep chuckle, it makes shivers run down Dean’s spine.

"But I want you to come only on your fingers, without touching your cock. Can you do that for me, pretty boy?"

Dean turns his head and groans into the pillow. He could’ve expected there would be a catch.

"Dean?" Castiel’s voice is deep and soft, yet full of imperative.

"Yes!" Dean chokes out. "Yeah, I can do that. I think I could come on your voice alone."

He can imagine Castiel’s smile as he answers: "Wanting that would be too cruel of me. For now, I want you to slick your fingers."

Dean nods and fumbles for the lube.

"You will have to drop your phone, keep it close to your head or put it on the speaker to make sure you’ll hear me."

"Yes, sir," Dean breathes and fumbles with the phone, his hands are shaking, body thrumming with anticipation.

"Do you have your fingers slick?"

"Yes."

"Good. I want you to circle your nice pink hole with your index finger, make the skin wet."

Exhaling deeply, Dean bends his knees and teases his hole, eyes squeezed shut. He relaxes into the mattress, focused on his own light touch.

"Push it inside, Dean. Slowly. I don’t want you to hurt yourself."

Dean circles his entrance once more, then pushes in. To the first knuckle, he breathes out, then deeper.

"That’s it, Dean, slowly."

Dean moans and clenches around his own finger. He feels twitchy, he needs to move, he needs more touch.

"I want you to fuck yourself with that finger. But slowly, Dean, don’t hurry."

Dean starts to move his finger in and out, agonizingly slowly, letting out a desperate sound.

"Imagine it’s me opening you for my cock, making you loose and wet so I can slip in easily."

Dean shudders and pushes as deep as he can, crooking his finger, then dragging it out.

"Do you remember how it felt when I was in you? When I pushed my cock inside your greedy hole?"

"Yes!" Dean cries out. He wants it, he wants Cas to be here, touching him, filling him so much more and better than his single finger.

"Good. Because I remember too. I remember everything, I remember how warm and tight you were, how pliant under me. I remember your face, your parted lips. I remember every beautiful sound you made."

Dean’s hips buck up, he brushes against his prostate and whines loudly like a hurt animal.

"That’s it. Exactly like that," Cas says, his voice breathy and deep, making Dean’s insides flutter.

"Oh god, Dean, I wish you could see what you’re doing to me." The words are followed by a muffled moan and for the first time, Dean imagines Cas spread on his bed, stroking himself with one hand, phone clutched in the other.

"Fuck, Dean. Fuck yourself for me, I want to hear you come."

Dean whines again and adds a second finger, hissing at the stretch. He’s moving his fingers in and out, scissoring them, bending them to tease his prostate. His body is writhing, sheets sticking to his sweaty skin and unlike when he does this alone, he doesn’t censor the filthy sounds escaping his mouth. His mind is shifting between the image of Cas being here and fucking him and lying in his own bed, stroking himself while listening to Dean’s moans.

"That’s it, Dean. What a good boy. Come for me, baby."

A few more thrusts and a loud moan on the other end of the line and Dean is arching his back, fingertips pressed against his prostate. His cock twitches and warm come paints his belly white.

Just when he calms enough to hear anything but his own moans he hears Castiel crying out his name. He listens to the harsh puffs of breath coming from the man as he’s coming down from his high.

Then Castiel laughs, it’s short and throaty and warm. Dean’s heart clenches at the sound and a smile spreads on his lips.

"That was so good," he whispers into the phone.

"Did it help to practice your imagination?"

Dean would blush if it were possible to get redder than he already is.

"Yes, it did." It’s not true exactly, he still doubts that he can be in a relationship with this man, but he’s sure now that he wants to try because it’s definitely worth it.

"Clean yourself, Dean, then go to sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow."

"Alright," Dean murmurs, feeling a bit disappointed. He doesn’t want him to go, he doesn’t have enough.

"Sweet dreams, pretty boy."

"Good night, Cas."

 


	4. Force of Nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your beautiful comments! I had a terrible week and they were like the only rays of sunshine coming through clouds.  
> Enjoy the smutfest before the angst that´s coming in the next chapter

Castiel wakes up with a smile on his face. He drinks his coffee, then goes for a run, takes a shower and dresses for work. He pointedly avoids his phone the whole time, because he knows he would call Dean and it’s too soon.

The morning goes well, every time something threatens to drive him mad, he squeezes his eyes shut, takes a deep breath and imagines Dean. It feels so much different now when he’s almost certain that he’s going to see the beautiful man again.

During the lunch break he sits in his office and toys with his phone, talking himself out of calling now. He isn’t putting it off to play with Dean even though the idea of him waiting for Cas’ call eagerly is nice. He wants to give him time, to let him decide what he wants without being influenced. On the other hand, he probably screwed that up already last night. He couldn’t help himself, though, he’s been lying in his bed awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering if Dean had liked the not date as much as he had. And then when Dean called it was just too tempting, it was like there had been an itch Castiel hadn’t been able to scratch for weeks, but Dean could. When Castiel hung up last night, his hand and stomach covered with cooling jizz, he finally felt calm the way a good scene always made him.

And he wants more, he wants more from Dean but at the same time, he doesn’t want to force himself on him. Sometimes it’s hard to know if a sub really wants something or only does it to please their Dom.

He puts his phone away, suddenly too afraid of Dean saying no.

The rest of the day he’s just as nervous and grumpy as he’s been after meeting Dean for the first time.

He comes home, sheds his suit and goes for his evening run. He feeds Vergilius, his guinea pig, some dandelions he picked in the park and takes a shower. He decides to cook himself some pasta and when he waits for the water to boil, he realizes, he can’t put it off any longer and finally calls Dean.

"Hey! You called!"

"Hello, Dean, I told you I would."

"I know, but... It took you a while, I thought you changed your mind."

Castiel can’t fight back the wide grin that spreads on his face. It’s nice to know that Dean has been just as eager as he was.

"So, are we going to arrange a date, a scene, or should I delete your number and never bother you again?"

"A date," Dean breathes out and Castiel’s heart stutters. He’s happy, the way that makes him want to do silly things.

"Friday?" he asks, " Dinner and movies or should I come up with something more original to woo you?"

The line rattles with Dean’s chuckle.

"Dinner and movies sound great. And Friday will work."

"Alright then, I’ll pick you up at 8. Send me an address."

"Fine, and Castiel?"

"Hm?"

"You’re not gonna wear a suit, are you?"

"Well, if you don’t want me to, I won’t," he tries to sound disgruntled, but he’s still smiling.

"Okay, see you."

"I can’t wait," he answers and hangs up.

 

He wears a striped button up, a waistcoat, dark jeans, and a tie. Dean’s eyes widen with interest when he steps out of the apartment building and sees him.

As he walks closer, his eyes roam over Castiel’s body.

"A tie?" he blurts out when he stops in front of the other man.

Castiel frowns. "I’m not wearing a suit, you didn’t say anything about a tie."

Dean hums, not paying attention, his eyes fixed on Cas’ tie as he loosens it and pulls it off. Castiel stares at him a bit taken aback. He should think about how nobody treated him like this in a long time, but all he can focus on are Dean’s lips - wet and a bit pouted, his deft fingers working the first button of Castiel’s shirt open, and the smell of his cologne.

"Now this is better," Dean says satisfied with his work.

When he looks up and realizes how close they are, he licks his lips - a nervous gesture Castiel starts to love and can’t but follow with his eyes.

"Let’s go," Dean breaks the charged silence and Castiel nods.

 

They agree on a place that isn’t too posh but is more appropriate for a date than the diner they’ve been to last time.

There are a lit candle and a vase of fresh flowers on the table between them.

It’s obvious that it makes Dean uncomfortable. He barely looks at Castiel and smiles at the waitress a bit too much.

"So, where did you get such a nice car? She’s in a great shape, do you work on her yourself?" Castiel doesn’t care about cars in the slightest, but he knows it’s a topic that might make Dean feel more confident.

It proves to be a good choice because Dean visibly relaxes talking about how the car belonged to his father and how it used to be basically their only home when he and his brother were kids.

He needs to be prompted just a little to start talking about his younger brother Sam, who’s in law school at Stanford. Dean seems to be very fond of him, his speech is lively and relaxed. Castiel listens with interest and watches him with a pleased smile. Dean doesn’t flinch when their knees touch under the table. To Castiel’s surprise, he actually shoots Castiel a smile over the rim of his wine glass and nudges his leg with his foot.

It’s all relaxed and pleasant but there’s an underlying tension between them.

Castiel realizes why it is so when he pays for the tickets and catches Dean staring at him.

It’s their first date but they’ve already had sex. They can talk about their families and jobs and hobbies all they want, but deep inside they both think about how the other one feels and tastes and they want to experience it once again. They’re basically a breath away from jumping each other’s bones.

The movie isn’t something Castiel would normally choose for himself, but he can appreciate the cinematography and the subtext. Dean seems to enjoy the action, so it’s overall a success.

They don’t touch during the movie, for everybody else they must seem like buddies. Castiel doesn’t dare, afraid that in the dark he might lose control, overstep boundaries that aren´t firmly set yet and make Dean uncomfortable.

On the way back they find a bar where they talk about the movie over a glass of whiskey and cranberry juice. Castiel feels like he’s the one drinking alcohol when Dean nonchalantly places a hand on his knee and warmth spreads through his body.

At one moment Dean laughs so hard his whole body bends forward and his forehead leans on Castiel’s shoulder.

Castiel freezes, fighting himself. He desperately wants to kiss him breathless but isn’t sure if he’s allowed to, here in public.

When they leave the bar and Castiel walks Dean home, he experimentally lets his hand bump Dean’s. Dean intertwines their fingers without batting an eye.

"You know I’m glad you didn’t bring me flowers or anything," Dean says when they’re almost at his door. He ignores Castiel’s confused expression and continues. "It wasn’t as bad as I expected."

Castiel raises an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh, so it was a little bad?"

Dean chuckles and leans against the door.

"I meant being out with a guy." He blushes a bit, dropping his gaze to his hand on the handle.

"Not the date. That was good."

"I’m glad to hear that," Castiel answers, stepping closer. "About both."

Dean looks up and stares at him, silent.

Castiel basks in the warmth radiating from the other man’s body. It feels like Dean’s vibrating with anticipation. It looks beautiful on him, irresistible.

Castiel leans closer, so close their breaths mingle.

"I’m going to kiss you," he announces in a low voice and watches Dean’s pupils dilate as his lips part and he gives a minute nod.

With all self-control he can muster, Castiel leans in as slowly as possible. He presses his lips to Dean’s softly, swallowing the breathless whimper Dean lets out.

Dean stumbles forward, clutching the front of Castiel’s shirt, opening his mouth to let him in.

Castiel grabs his hips but lets their tongues meet just briefly before he pulls away, leaving Dean panting, craving more.

"Are you coming in?" Dean asks, his eyes roaming over Castiel’s face, his hands finding their way into Castiel’s hair.

Castiel leans his forehead against Dean’s.

"If I come in, I won’t be able to control myself."

"Who told you that you have to?" with that Dean kisses him. It’s hard and claiming, teeth scraping Castiel’s lower lip.

Castiel takes over and pushes Dean against the door, angling his head so he can make the kiss deeper.

He uses his knee to part Dean’s legs and feels his growing erection against his thigh.

With a moan, Dean pushes him away. Castiel blinks, confused, but before he can get worried that he did something wrong, Dean pulls a bunch of keys out of his pocket and with clinking too loud in the silence of the night unlocks the door.

He grabs the front of Castiel’s shirt and drags him in, then he presses a soft kiss to his lips and whispers "Catch me."

Before Castiel realizes what’s going on, Dean is running up the stairs.

Castiel huffs out a laugh and heads after him.

Three times he catches him and steals a kiss only to be pushed away so the game can continue.

When he arrives at the door of Dean’s apartment, it’s open. He steps in and closes the door, his eyes not leaving Dean who’s in the small hallway, pulling his shirt over his head.

Cas kicks his shoes off and steps closer, he grabs Dean’s naked hips and kisses his neck.

Dean sighs contently and starts working Cas’ waistcoat open. They get rid of it with joined forces and as Cas continues undressing, Dean leads him into the living area with a bed on the further side.

Dean stumbles backward to the bed, dragging Castiel with him.

"An advantage of small apartments," Castiel murmurs as Dean splays on the mattress and he climbs on top of him.

 

Castiel is like a force of nature, he kisses Dean with such a fervor and passion, that all he can do is hold on for dear life.

"I missed this," Castiel growls, licking a wet stripe along the vein on Dean’s neck. "I missed you, Dean," he adds, his hands traveling over Dean’s body, fingers pressing into skin and muscles.

He grinds their crotches together forcing a moan out of Dean.

"I love the sounds you make, pretty boy," he purrs, tugging at Dean’s hair so he can place open-mouthed kisses on his throat.

Dean mewls and arches his body into the touch.

"Do you like it? When I call you pretty boy?" Castiel asks, looking him in the eyes.

Dean hesitates. He doesn’t like being called pretty, it has always meant something wrong. He was called too pretty for a man. He was called pretty when somebody offered him money for sucking their cock. He doesn’t like being called boy either. People call him that to remind him that he doesn’t have power, that his opinion doesn’t matter. He hates it.

But from Castiel, it’s different. He makes it sound like Dean is something special, something precious. From Castiel’s mouth, it’s a praise and Dean wants to hear it again and again.

"I do," he whispers against Castiel’s lips and is rewarded by hot tongue licking into his mouth, making him shiver.

Kissing Dean’s chest and sucking at his nipples, Castiel unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants.

"Cas!" Dean cries out when Castiel bites down on the hard nub between his lips.

Castiel freezes and looks up, his lips are wet and eyes dark with lust.

"Say it again," he orders, a bit breathless.

Dean doesn’t obey right away, instead, he tugs at Castiel’s hair to pull him up so he can look at his face.

"You like it?"

Castiel nods, he seems surprised by his own reaction to the nickname.

"Nobody ever called you that?"

"Not in a situation like this," Castiel admits and kisses him.

"Cas," Dean breathes into his mouth, making him growl. Dean wraps his legs around his waist and moans his name again as their erections meet.

"Fuck," Cas sighs. "Dean, are you drunk?"

Dean shakes his head. "I just had some wine and one whiskey."

Cas hums approvingly, nuzzling at his neck.

"Do you remember your safeword?"

Dean feels a surge of arousal run through his body at the mention of the word and what it implies.

"Impala," he chokes out, his whole body tense with anticipation.

"Good," Cas pulls away, propping himself on his hands. "Mine is bumblebee."

Dean’s eyes widen in surprise. "You need one too?"

Cas smiles a bit crookedly. "Just to be sure." With that, he starts to pull Dean’s pants off.

Dean shivers when Cas kisses his ankle exactly like he said he would when they were talking on the phone. He trails kisses up Dean’s legs. When he brushes his stubbled cheek against the soft skin of Dean’s inner thigh, Dean moans. "Cas, please!"

"What do you want?" Castiel asks and kisses Dean’s belly.

Dean tangles his fingers in Castiel’s thick hair. "Fuck me," he pleads writhing on the bed.

Castiel chuckles, his hot breath tickling Dean’s chest.

"Tell me more, Dean," he nuzzles at Dean’s neck. "What do you want?" he whispers into Dean’s ear.

Dean wraps his arms around him, hands sliding up and down the planes of naked skin like he’s trying to imprint every curve and edge into his memory. He’s unable of coherent thought, too eager to feel Castiel inside him to focus on anything. He remembers the last time, how good Castiel made him feel and he wants it again. But there’s something he wants to change.

"I want to see," he says, unsure if that counts as an answer.

Castiel’s smile is warm as he presses a soft kiss to the corner of Dean’s lips.

"Anything you want," he promises and sits up between Dean’s legs. He looks around and at one moment, Dean notices a glint in his eyes and a twitch of his lips.

He reaches into the bedside table, guessing right that it’s where Dean stores lube and condoms. Dean blushes because it means he also sees Dean’s collection of panties.

Cas grabs the lube and a condom and slams the drawer shut, then he turns to Dean. He grabs Dean’s hand and sucks his index finger into his mouth.

Dean’s eyes widen and his cock twitches when Cas sucks hard at the digit and at the same time uses his tongue. Dean wants nothing more than feeling the same action on his cock.

Cas pulls away with an obscene sound. "Open yourself for me, Dean, like you did when I called you," he instructs and gets off the bed so he can get rid of the rest of his clothes.

Dean obeys, slowly working his finger into his hole, while watching Castiel, who undresses, then returns to his place on the bed.

"Good boy," he praises, lubing his own fingers. He places one hand on Dean’s bent knee. The gentle fingers of his other hand start to tease Dean’s hole stretched around Dean’s own finger.

Dean gasps when Castiel pushes in. It’s strange to feel so much at once - his finger against Castiel’s, Castiel’s and his own finger in his ass. A bit overwhelmed, he bucks his hips, fucking himself on the fingers.

Cas hums and kisses his hip.

"Feels good?" he asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer, he starts to move his finger in and out.

Dean swallows a moan and throws his head back, squeezing his eyes shut.

He feels Cas’ grab on his knee tighten. "You wanted to watch, Dean, so you should watch."

Dean opens his eyes but keeps staring at the ceiling, his breath getting more and more labored with every move of Cas’ hand.

"Come on, Dean, look," Cas growls.

With a grunt, Dean props on one elbow and looks between his legs, over his cock flushed and arching against his belly, to see their joint hands.

"Cas," he breathes out and looks into blue eyes darkened with lust. Without hesitation, Castiel leans in and kisses him. He swallows the sounds that form in the back of Dean’s throat as he adds a second finger, stretching Dean’s entrance open.

"Is it okay?" he asks against Dean’s lips.

Dean nods and presses their foreheads together, with one arm wrapped around Cas’ neck, he rolls his hips, taking Cas deeper.

"You’re so good, Dean, so good," Cas sighs and the genuine awe in his voice makes Dean shiver with pleasure.

"It’s enough, Dean, I want you on your hands and knees." Cas carefully slips his fingers out and Dean follows, letting out a disgruntled sound.

He doesn’t protest that this way he won’t be able to see Cas, but he’s a bit disappointed. Only until Cas grabs his hips from behind and makes him move so he’s positioned on the bed crosswise not facing the headboard.

"Look up, Dean."

A mirror. There’s a mirror on the wall. Of course, there is, Dean gets dressed in front of it every day, but in the couple of months he’s been living here he’s never even thought about using it like this.

"Look how pretty you are," Castiel purrs, rubbing Dean’s back. Dean can’t rip his eyes off him, towering behind Dean, tall and strong and beautiful.

Dean watches in the reflection as Cas puts on a condom and lubes up his cock, then he lines up with his hole. It’s a surprise when he feels the head of his cock even though he can see what’s happening behind him. It’s like watching someone else, it’s too hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that it’s actually him in the mirror.

"Do you want me to continue?" Cas asks, finding his eyes in the reflection.

"Yes, sir," Dean answers, his voice shaking.

Cas leans down to kiss Dean’s spine and slowly pushes in. Dean lets out a harsh breath, trying to relax.

"Open your eyes, Dean," Cas orders. Dean didn’t even realize that he’d shut them, but when he looks into the mirror, he feels a wave of heat.

He’s looking at himself with cheeks bright red and lips parted as a groan escapes between them.

Cas slowly pushes deeper, hands on Dean’s hips, eyes fixed on his face in the mirror.

"So beautiful, look how perfect you are," he murmurs as he finally bottoms out.

It’s too much for Dean, feeling Cas’ hard cock inside, seeing his face just as flushed as his which he can see too.

He bows his head, letting it hang between his shaking shoulders.

"Cas, Cas, Cas," he repeats like a prayer, not sure what he’s begging for.

"Shhh, I’ve got you," Castiel comforts him, rubbing his back soothingly.

Dean takes a few deep breaths, his body relaxing around Cas, his mind finally grasping the situation, discomfort making a place for pleasure.

"More," he breathes out because he realizes that yes, that’s what he wants, he wants more.

"Then take it," Castiel answers, drawing circles with his thumb on Dean’s hip.

Dean looks up to find Cas’ face in the mirror and gives him a confused look.

Castiel’s lips twist into an encouraging smile.

"Take what you want, Dean. Come on, I’m sure you know how to move that pretty ass of yours."

Dean opens his mouth to protest, but the words get stuck in his throat. He never did this, on the rare occasion he bottomed, he was never in charge. He wasn’t downright passive but... well, right now it makes him feel terribly inexperienced and self-conscious.

But Cas refuses to move and he needs it or he’s going to lose his mind.

It’s the look on Castiel’s face that gives him the last push. Keeping his eyes fixed on Castiel’s, Dean rolls his hips, letting Cas’ cock slide out an inch, then taking him in again.

It feels so good that Dean can’t fight back a groan, clenching the sheets in his fists. He does it again, this time with more finesse, using his whole body, moving it in a smooth wave.

"That’s good." Castiel’s voice sounds like a purring of a huge cat. Dean looks at him and notices the hungry look in his eyes as he watches the muscles of Dean’s back shift.

It makes the heat low in his belly grow, the sparks of pleasure fly through his nerves as he keeps moving in a smooth rhythm.

"Good boy, so good," Cas’ voice is breathy, filled with lust.

"You feel perfect, Dean, oh god. Come on, I know you can go harder."

With that, he slaps Dean’s ass, just a spur. Dean gasps, his cock gives a hard twitch and a bead of precum drips onto the sheets.

Groaning, Dean adjusts his stance for better stability and starts to fuck himself hard on Castiel’s cock.

Through the blood humming in his ears, he hears the wet sound of skin against skin and Castiel’s swallowed moans.

He thrusts back even harder, feeling Cas’ balls slam against hiss ass, and grins widely when Cas swears, his voice breaking.

"Fuck, Dean, look what you do to me."

Dean obeys and the sight is priceless. Castiel’s hair is a mess, his face is flushed and his eyes dark, lips parted as his breath leaves them in harsh puffs. His whole body is tense as he’s forcing himself not to move. He’s a wreck and it’s all because of Dean.

It makes him feel powerful, beautiful, wanted and needed. Every cell in his body is filled with a strange energy, his nerves are like strings, singing with pleasure. He might burst from all the sensations, all the feelings - the stretch and burn in his hole, the tension and simmering warmth in his belly, the ache in his shoulders, the gentle touches of Cas’ hand- but he wants more, he _needs_ more. He needs the final push that will bring him release.

"Cas, please," he begs. "I can’t... I need-" he can’t form the sentence, too focused on moving, on taking more.

Cas leans forward, draping himself over Dean’s back.

"What is it, Dean?" he whispers into Dean’s ear. "What do you want?"

"Please," is all Dean is able to say. He loves the change of angle, he loves the heat of Cas’ body draped over him, the closeness.

"Do you want me to touch you?" Cas suggest and Dean nods vehemently.

"Shh, slow down." Castiel grabs Dean’s hips, making them come to a halt.

"Good, that’s my boy. Now spit," he orders. Dean looks at the palm Cas is holding in front of his face, then shoots an uncertain look into the mirror. Cas gives him a nod.

Dean’s heart is hammering painfully in his chest when he complies and spits into Cas’ palm. It’s filthy, a bit weird, but oh it turns him on when Cas wraps his hand around Dean’s cock and spreads his own spit over his shaft.

The sounds that are escaping Dean’s mouth when Cas strokes him should be embarrassing, but Dean doesn’t have the strength to care. Then Cas stops.

"Now take what you want," he murmurs against Dean’s back, kissing every vertebra he can reach. "Make yourself come, baby. I want you to come on my cock, come all over my hand.

Dean makes a sound like a wounded animal and collects all his remaining power to move again. He’s alternately pushing into Cas’ loose fist and fucking himself on his cock.

" Look up, Dean," Cas growls, slapping his ass lightly.

Dean sobs and raises his head. This time he doesn’t look at Cas, but at himself. He never thought he would look like the guys in porn movies, but holy shit, the sight of himself does amazing things to him. His eyes slide from his reddened face over his shoulders and chest to where his cock peaks through the circle of Cas’ fingers. The head is dark and slick with precome and spit.

He chokes out a sob and his arms buckle under the weight of his body. He’s so close and he’s sure that when he comes, it’s going to be so powerful he’s going to fall into pieces.

"Keep your eyes open." Cas’ voice commands, deep and husky.

He grabs Dean’s hair and tugs his head back forcing him to take a good look. The display of dominance is what pushes Dean over the edge.

His lips form a wide O in a voiceless cry, followed by soft grunts and moans as his body shudders and he spills over Cas’ hand.

Wave after wave of breathtaking pleasure hits him, the last one leaving him spent and boneless. He would fall on his face if not for Castiel’s strong arms holding him upright.

Castiel pulls his still hard cock slowly out and lays Dean on his back. The moment he leans down, Dean wraps his arms and legs around him, pulling him close.

"You did well, Dean. You were perfect." Cas whispers praise into the crook of Dean’s neck, petting his sweat damp hair while Dean still pants for breath, shaking with the aftershock.

It’s when Dean’s breathing evens out and Cas rolls his hips, grinding against Dean’s thigh, that Dean realizes he hasn't come yet.

"Can I finish inside you, Dean? Can you take more?" he asks, voice low and soft.

"Yes," Dean nods and earns himself a long kiss.

Cas slips back into his abused hole slowly, but Dean hisses anyway. When Cas gives him a concerned look, he wraps his legs around him tighter and gives an encouraging smile that dies with a moan as Cas pulls out and thrusts back in. With his head thrown back, Dean doesn’t try to control the sounds he makes, soft gasps and whines.

"Look at me, Dean," Cas says and it sounds more like a plea than a command.  He cups Dean’s face with his palms and kisses him deep and claiming and even though Dean is oversensitive he could cry with the pleasure being so close to this man brings him. When they part, Cas leans his forehead against Dean’s. His breath is hot on Dean’s lips and the blue of his eyes almost entirely swallowed by his pupils.

"Look at what you do to me," he groans and his hips stutter.

Dean stares into the depths of his eyes, breathless, as Castiel climaxes. His eyes flutter shut for a second but then he’s staring at Dean again as his cock twitches inside Dean’s body. It’s so intense Dean can’t fight back a moan, he’s sure he would come again if it was possible.

Cas pecks his lips and pulls out, disentwining himself from Dean’s embrace.

It feels like the Earth stopped for a moment and it starts spinning again now, making Dean a bit sick.

Dean stares at the ceiling, thinking that maybe he actually fell into pieces and then he was put together, but not in the same way. Then warm arms are wrapped around him and he’s pulled under the covers and he thinks that it doesn’t matter. All that matters are Cas’ hands holding all his pieces together.

"I wanted you to see yourself how I see you," Cas says into the silence. "To see how beautiful you are."

He rubs Dean’s back and presses a kiss to the top of his head. "I hope you’ll never doubt again that you’re good. You’re perfect, Dean. I’m so lucky to have you."

Dean hums and kisses Castiel’s chest, then he closes his eyes and lets Cas’ steady heartbeat lull him to sleep.

 


	5. A Fine Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the angst. There might be too much talking and not enough fucking but I promise I´m gonna make up for that later :)

When Dean wakes up, they aren’t cuddled together anymore. He’s on his side of the bed, feeling cold because the cover has been kicked away. The moment he opens his eyes the memories of last night rush into his mind. He feels a pang of pain in his chest and his stomach twists like there’s a bunch of snakes inside.

He rolls to his side to see Castiel’s back and for a moment he forgets he’s freaking out because for the first time he sees Castiel’s naked back and the tattoo that stretches over his shoulder blades. It’s a tangle of lines. Some of them fine and precise, others thick looking like wild strokes of a brush. Together they form an ornament reminding Dean of a circular mandala being swapped by wind. He can almost see the lines moving, but it´s probaby just Cas´ muscles shifting with his calm breath.

Castiel looks so peaceful in his sleep, so innocent, not like someone who would force Dean to do the unspeakable things he did last night. Because that’s exactly what happened, right? He must have used some psychological mumbo jumbo because Dean would never do that with a clear mind. He wouldn’t make a show of fucking himself on his cock, he wouldn't beg for more like a slut.

He takes a shaky breath and sits up on the edge of the bed. He wishes he could run away. That’s exactly why he doesn’t invite anyone to his apartment, it makes the morning so much more awkward.

He flinches when knuckles brush over the small of his back.

"Dean, are you okay? Come back, it’s still early."

Cas’ voice is sleep rough and warm and part of Dean wants to succumb to its luring and crawl back into Cas’ arms. But that part isn’t the one in charge right now.

"I think you should leave," he says, surprised by how hollow his own voice sounds.

He hears shifting behind him as Cas sits up.

"Dean? What’s wrong?" The concern in his voice makes Dean feel even worse.

"It was a mistake. I want you to leave." It’s like somebody else is talking through his mouth.

Castiel shifts closer, Dean can feel the warmth of his body, he doesn’t touch him though which is good because the thought of touching makes Dean sick.

"Dean, tell me what bothers you. I swear talking about it will help."

Dean presses the heels of his hands against his eyelids. "I don’t want your help," he hisses, "I want you gone."

"Look, I know what you’re going through and you shouldn’t be alone right now. I swear I won’t touch you if you don’t want to. I’ll just make you a breakfast and-"

Dean cuts him off by jumping to his feet and turning to him.

"You know what I’m going through? I’m going through a realization that I made a huge ass mistake by ever letting you into my life. Realization of what you made me do."

Castiel takes a deep breath, his face is a mask of perfect control except for his eyes. The hurt in his eyes is like a claw clenching Dean’s heart and squeezing it, but he ignores it.

"There’s nothing wrong with what we did last night. You did everything of your own will and you loved it. There’s no reason to be ashamed of it."

For some reason, Castiel lecturing him on his feelings only makes Dean angrier.

"Get out of my place. Now," he growls, for the first time taking advantage of being taller, looking down at Cas, trying to be intimidating. It’s a vain attempt of compensating of how he let Cas take control over him.

"Fine," Cas breathes out and lifts his shirt from the floor. "But you need to know that you’re going through a drop. It’s because the endorphins have worn out. That’s why you hate me."

Dean doesn’t react, he watches him collect his clothes and when Cas starts getting dressed, he drops himself on the bed and hides his face in his palms.

He’s floating in the darkness, pretending that he doesn’t exist when he feels Castiel standing next to him. It brings him a memory of their first encounter and there’s the small voice in him telling him he’s making a mistake, that he should cling to Castiel and never let him go. He stomps on it.

"Dean?"

"Go."

* * *

 

The way home feels like sleepwalking. Castiel feels himself dropping too. It’s like his limbs are filling with lead and his head is full of black mist.

At home, he sits on the couch and wonders what he did wrong. He tries to recall some sign of Dean’s distress that he might have overlooked. All he can come up with is that he should’ve talked to Dean right after the scene. Or before it. Probably both. He should have paid more attention to Dean´s blood sugar too. How could he have made such a mistake with all his experience? He got too comfortable, became lazy, lulled by his own pleasure. It was so selfish of him and they are both paying for it now.

He feels stupid and angry at himself. He grits his teeth and balls his hands into fists so his nails dig painfully into his palms.

Realizing that it will only get worse if he doesn’t talk to someone, he fishes in his pocket for his phone and dials the only person he can tell what’s going on.

"Hello, Clarence. What did you mess up this time?"

Castiel frowns. "How do you know I messed up?

He can hear Meg’s smile. "Well, you only ever call when you need me to pull your sweet ass out of trouble. So what is it?"

Castiel sighs and curls on his side.

"I didn’t handle a sub drop."

"Are you kidding, Cas? You’ve been doing this for years, I thought you deal with such things twice a week."

"It’s different this time." He hates the whiny undertone of his voice. "This one is personal."

He can imagine her arched eyebrow. "Personal? As in not for money?"

"Yes," Cas breathes out. "I guess I care for him so much that I just... panicked. He was pushing me away and I didn’t know what to do."

"Well, you must have it pretty bad. You’re the last person I’d expect to panic."

"You’re not helping, Meg."

"Fine, tell me what you did."

"I tried to talk to him, but he told me to leave. I told him about sub drop but he kicked me out."

"So you left him alone?"

"Yes." The guilt curls cold and slimy in his gut.

"Oh you stupid boy," Meg sighs. "Does he have some mental health issues that could be triggered by it?"

"I don’t know about any. He didn’t fill anything in the form, though."

"I thought you said it wasn’t for money? You let your personal toys fill in a form?"

"No, he-" Cas pinches the bridge of his nose, "he started as a client."

"That sounds like a story I’d rather not hear. The question is what you’re going to do now."

Castiel sighs and rolls on his stomach so he can bury his face in the cushion."

"Look, Cas, there’s nothing you can do right now. You can try to call him, but I guess he won’t pick up. Give him time, he’ll get over it."

"He will. But I fucked up."

"Everyone makes mistakes. Especially when emotions are involved. You shouldn’t punish yourself."

Cas groans. "I wanted it to work out with him. He said it was a mistake." Repeating it makes Castiel’s chest constrict exactly like when he heard it from Dean.

"I know, sweetheart. But nothing is lost. Try to talk to him later. Now you should get some rest."

"Hmf."

"Be a good boy, eat something healthy and watch some of those stupid documentaries you like so much and I promise you’ll feel better soon."

"Thanks, Meg."

"No problem. I hope next time you'll call me to ask me out for dinner."

"I will."

 

He forces himself to take a shower and right when he’s staring into an empty fridge, the doorbell rings. There´s a flare a of stupid naive hope that it’s Dean, that he somehow found out Castiel´s address and is behind the door ready to forgive Cas and fall into his arms. He feels his heart sink, heavy with disappointment when he opens the door.

* * *

 

All Dean wants to do is crawl back into bed and sleep for ages. But the bed smells of sex and Castiel and he can’t stand it. He opts for a long shower instead.

His body aches, but it’s nothing compared to the storm of emotions going on in his mind, which is almost physically painful.

Under the spray of water, he can finally breathe and think.

What he said to Cas was too harsh, he knows that now. But he felt so overwhelmed and the man’s presence made him feel trapped.

He has to admit that if he said he didn’t like what happened last night, he would lie. He liked it, he probably had never been so turned on in his life. God, even thinking about it makes his cock stir.

But it was too much, the way Cas touched him, looked at him, how he knew what Dean wanted and made him want more. It was scary. Like some levee in Dean has broken and now he’s being flooded by things he doesn’t understand.

If only there was some kind of handbook. Or someone he can talk to but his friends, even his brother, are out of the question.

He leaves the bathroom, rubbing his hair with a towel and suddenly the apartment feels too empty. The space he craved before feels cold and hostile now.

He shouldn’t have kicked Cas out, the guy hasn't done anything wrong, he tried to help. And he said something about Dean feeling like shit being normal, right? Dean remembers reading something about that in the leaflet he received when he signed up for the session with Cas, but he doesn’t remember the advice it gave and he threw the thing away, scared that someone might find it.

"Screw it," he growls and grabs his phone.

When he hears the beep, he realizes what a stupid idea it was but before he hangs up, he hears Castiel’s deep voice.

"Dean?" he blurts out half surprised, half relieved.

"Hey," Dean chokes out, trying to breathe normally. "I think you were right."

"About what?" Dean can imagine Castiel’s confused squint.

"I shouldn’t be alone."

"Oh-" There’s a moment of silence which Dean uses to prepare himself for hearing Cas telling him to fuck off.

"Dean, I’m so sorry-"

"Ok, I get it, I get it." He’s ready to hang up, but Cas cuts him off.

"No, wait! I can’t leave right now, but maybe you could come here? I’ll send you the address."

It’s Dean’s turn to let out a surprised "Oh."

"Alright, I can do that."

"Fine." Cas sounds so relieved Dean almost wants to smile.

A moment after he hangs up, he receives a text with an address. It’s really close to his shop so he should be there in 10 minutes if he takes the car. He starts typing the reply, then looks at himself and realizes he’s still naked, a towel wrapped around his waist.

_Be there in 20,_ he sends the text and gets up to get dressed.

When Dean finds the building it’s pretty clear that Cas’ apartment is going to be much more luxurious than his. He finds the doorbell and is let in without a word from the intercom.

Dean takes the elevator to the fifth floor, his nervousness growing to the level when his chest feels too small.

He braces himself and knocks on the door.

"Who are you?" There’s a blond girl, around 14, looking up at him with an expression of an angry little dog.

"I’m looking for Cas?"

She opens her mouth, but before she says anything, Castiel appears behind her.

"Claire, let him in." Seeing Cas in a gray tee and sweats might be more surprising than the presence of the teenager.

Muttering something under her breath, she steps out of the way and closes the door when he steps in.

"You listen to Metallica?" she asks as he kicks off his shoes. Dean gives her a confused look, she rolls her eyes and points at his shirt.

"Oh, yeah, I do," he says, feeling a bit surreal.

Cas places a palm on the girl’s shoulder but looks at Dean.

"Dean, please wait for me in the bedroom, I need to talk to Claire and then I’ll join you.

Dean nods and walks pass them to the living room.

Castiel’s home is nothing like what Dean expected from a professional dom. There’s no glass and steel, the place is warm and a little messy. It looks like the interior was meant to be modern and minimalist, but somebody decided to screw the idea and cram it with stuff. The furniture is a mix of modern and antique, but overall it looks very comfortable. There’s a crazy number of shelves which overflow not only with books, but also some weird colletor’s stuff Dean wants to examine later. There are paintings and flowers and a cage with an animal Dean doesn’t see. The place is divided by a huge piece of fabric with a mandala painted on it in warm hues. As Dean passes the divider to the door he assumes leads to the bedroom, he tries to peak behind it, but can’t see what’s there.

The bedroom is spacey and lit thanks to huge windows with a view of a park. Dean sits on the bed and looks around, wondering where all of Cas ’ kinky stuff is hidden.

His eyes stop on a framed photo of Cas, the blond girl but much younger and a pretty blond woman. Dean walks closer to examine it, ignoring the sour feeling that he wouldn’t admit is jealousy.

When he hears the door opening, he turns to Cas and without thinking blurts out: "Who is she?"

Cas blinks a bit taken aback by the accusation he must hear in Dean’s voice, if he didn’t tell him about a wife and a child, Dean has every right to be angry.

"Claire is my niece. The people on the picture you were looking at are my twin brother and his wife."

Dean’s lips make a little O, he’s relieved but at the same time feels like an idiot for jumping to conclusions.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything, though because Cas continues.

"Jimmy died a few years back and Amelia isn’t dealing very well. Claire comes here when she can’t stand being at home."

Dean nods. He knows exactly how that feels, only he didn’t have anywhere to run to.

"Look, I didn’t want to interrupt, I can go, she needs you."

Castiel shakes his head.

"I talked to her and she’s going to be alright. She has a whole pizza to herself and my collection of DVDs to rummage through. Speaking of pizza, do you want some?"

Dean wants to reject, but his stomach betrays him by growling loudly.

Cas takes it for an answer and with a smile leaves the room.

Dean waits, looking out of the window and thinking about the girl. The though facade makes sense now.

It’s a bit weird to have her here considering what they’re going to talk about, on the other hand, it means no sex and that’s something welcomed right now.

Cas returns with a pizza box and two cans of coke. They settle on the bed in silence. The pizza turns out to be four in one which makes Dean smile as he imagines Cas and Claire not being able to agree on just one.

He goes for the meat lover's and chews while Cas pretends he’s not examining him.

"I thought your bedroom would be more like a sex dungeon," he says to break the silence before it gets awkward.

Cas smirks. "You just need to take a better look."

Dean follows Cas’ gaze to the ceiling and swallows, even he can guess what the metal loops are there for.

Cas helps himself to a piece of pizza (Hawaiian, which Dean doesn’t comment on only because his mouth is full) and they eat in silence.

When they finish, Cas puts the box aside and makes himself comfortable against the headboard.

"Do you feel a bit better with your stomach full?"

Dean nods. He feels better, but at the same time he knows now is the time when they talk about feelings and it makes him queasy.

There’s silence again, it seems like Cas is finding the right words, what he says when he finally looks up is definitely not what Dean expected.

"Dean, I want to apologize."

Dean shakes his head vehemently. "No, it wasn’t your fault I-"

"Yes, it was," he cuts him off. "I should have discussed with you what I was going to do. Prepare you. I’m sorry I rushed it."

Dean chews his lower lip, staring at the duvet between them.

"What I said... that it was a mistake, it wasn’t because I didn’t like it."

Cas tilts his head. "Why then?"

Dean sighs, he knows he’s bad at talking about feelings but this is even harder than usual.

"It was too intense."

He looks up to see Castiel listening intently and receives an encouraging nod.

"I know you didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to, but... I don’t want to want the things I wanted."

"Why?"

Dean shrugs, he doesn’t know.

He realizes he’s been quiet for a while only when Cas speaks.

"Do you want me to hold you?" Dean looks up, surprised by the offer. Then he notices he’s shaking.

Reluctantly he nods and when Cas opens his arms, Dean cuddles to his side with head on his shoulder and lets Cas wrap his arms around him.

He’s tense at first, but Cas’ warmth and the steady rhythm in which his chest rises and falls make him relax. Cas waits a few minutes, just rubbing Dean’s back.

"Sometimes we believe things are bad only because we were taught they were. But the people who taught us that never tried them themselves, they were scared of them because they didn’t know them."

Dean listens and thinks about his dad. He remembers the things John taught him a man should and shouldn’t do. Some of them he said explicitly, some Dean just took from how John behaved himself.

He doesn’t even want to think about what John would say if he knew about what Dean does with Castiel.

"What are you thinking about?" Cas asks and runs his fingers through Dean’s hair. Dean lets his eyes fall shut and breathes in the smell of Cas’ t-shirt.

"About my dad."

"Tell me about him."

There’s a surge of panic. His family is the last thing Dean wants to talk about, but he guesses once he’ll have to tell Cas and now is as good time as ever.

He shifts so his head still rests on Cas’ shoulder, but he can stare at the ceiling.

"My mom died when I was four and Sammy was just six months old."

He waits for the typical "I’m so sorry," but it never comes. Cas just tightens his hold. It feels better than any _I’m so sorry_ Dean has ever received.

"It was in a fire. Dad gave me baby Sam and told me to run out of the house. He tried to save her, but she breathed in too much smoke and died in the hospital."

A soft kiss to his temple, but not a word from Cas.

"From then I was always told to take care of Sammy. And I did. I had to because dad.... how did you say it? He didn’t deal with mom’s death very well."

"Oh," Cas breathes out. "Drinking?" he suggests and Dean nods.

"Yes. And he was so damn restless. I told you we basically grew up in the damn car. He wasn’t able to stay at one place for more than a few weeks."

"It must’ve been hard growing up. I mean changing schools and all."

"You have no idea."

Cas huffs out a mirthless laugh which makes Dean look at him questioningly. Castiel just shakes his head.

"I think I do, but that’s for another time. Now we’re talking about you."

Dean frowns, but it melts when Cas presses a kiss to the wrinkle that forms between his eyebrows.

He smiles and continues, playing with the hem of Cas’ shirt.

"He did odd jobs. I don't know if all of them were legal. He was an ex-marine so I guess beating up a guy wouldn’t be a problem for him." Dean thinks about the times John came back in the morning with bloodied knuckles.

"Sometimes he left us alone for days. I had to be a daddy and a mommy for Sam."

"You brought him up? That’s why you sound so proud when you talk about him."

Dean can’t fight back a smile. "Yeah. He’s at law school so you know, I think I did a pretty good job."

"You did."

Feeling a bit lighter Dean reminds himself where he stopped.

"Sam ran away to Stanford and I was left alone with dad. He took me with him to some jobs." He stops there, going over the details and deciding that he doesn’t want to share them. But there are things he never talked about with anyone and right now it feels like they’re clawing at his insides, trying to get off his chest.

"I wanted to help him get some money. Sam got a full scholarship, but I knew he needed to pay for food and textbooks and such. We often hustled pool or poker which means you know... shady places."

He takes a deep breath. The words that desperately wanted out now stuck in his throat.

"I got offered money for handjobs and blowjobs. Even sex, but I never did that."

He can’t look at Cas in case he would look disgusted.

"I somehow knew that if he knew, he would tear me a new one. Maybe it was because of how he looked when he saw two guys together, maybe it was the slurs. I just knew."

Castiel shifts and for a moment Dean’s scared that he’s going to pull away but instead Cas grabs his chin and kisses him. Soft and sweet. Somehow it tastes like reassurance that everything is going to be alright.

"I hooked up with girls," he blurts out, looking Cas in the eyes. "A lot of girls, because when I returned to the motel in the morning with hickeys and lipstick stains, he gave me that amused look like "boys will be boys" or something. It was actually the only sign of approval I ever got from him."

Dean grinds his teeth. Cas strokes his jaw.

"I had a lot of girls, but never actually dated them, not after high school. We never stayed at one place for long enough. With guys, it was pretty rare. Usually when dad didn’t let me tag along for some job. I got drunk and fucked the first guy that was willing. I found out I liked it the other way round by accident when I was really drunk. But I almost never allowed it to myself. It felt even more wrong, you know?"

He feels his cheeks burning, but once he started, he can’t stop it. Everything with Castiel is like that.

"Yes, I understand," Cas answers softly, even though Dean didn’t expect him to reply.

"And look at me now," Dean laughs bitterly. "Cuddling with a guy. That’s so not me," he sighs.

"It’s so not what you think your father would approve of. That doesn’t mean it’s not you."

Dean’s lips part but he doesn’t have anything to say because Cas is right. He looks into the deep blue of Cas’ eyes and feels the overwhelming feeling surging in his chest again.

"I feel like falling," he hears himself say.

Cas smiles, eyes warm, and strokes his cheek.

"There’s a fine line between falling and flying."

Dean breaks into laughter, hiding his face on Castiel’s chest.

"What?" Cas asks confused.

"I’m scared of flying," Dean manages to say between hiccuping of laughter. There are tears in his eyes and he’s not sure they’re from laughter.

He heaves a few breaths to calm himself down. He’s clinging to Cas, listening to his heartbeat.

It’s like hearing the wheels in the clockwork of the world turn. He knows something is changing and unlike just an hour ago, he’s not scared of it anymore.

"Flying," he whispers to himself. The feeling is still there, but now it also feels like the ground is far enough. He’s warm and safe and there’s a steady thud-thud filling his head.

He’s fast asleep before he even realizes he’s drifting off.

Dean wakes up to voices but he’s too lazy and comfortable to open his eyes.

"Is he going to be okay?" the girl asks.

Cas’ chest vibrates under Dean’s cheek when he answers.

"I hope so."

Dean realizes they’re talking about him and his heart picks up its pace. He keeps pretending to be asleep, not wanting to interrupt the conversation.

"He seems nice."

"He is."

"You like him?"

A pause.

"Very much."

Another moment of silence. Something is making a weird crunching noise, though.

"Then I hope he stays."

"Thank you, Claire."

A floorboard creaks and Dean cracks one eye open to see the girl heading for the door, a furry ball chewing half a cucumber held close to her chest.

"Don’t forget to close Vergilius’ cage before you leave."

She rolls her eyes so hard even Dean can see it and closes the door.

Castiel sighs and pats Dean’s hair. Dean stirs like he just woke up and nuzzles at Cas’ neck.

"Hello, beautiful," Cas whispers. Dean finds his lips. They share kisses for a while, it’s soft and slow. Dean hasn't kissed anyone like that since middle school - just for the sake of kissing, without the intention to get further.

"I love your lips," Cas growls and drags his teeth over Dean’s lower lip.

Dean moans and presses himself closer, but Cas shifts away.

"You were telling me about your dad," he says, killing the mood.

Dean groans and turns to his side. " I need to pee first."

"If you think I’ll forget about it while you’re in the bathroom, you’re wrong."

Dean rolls his eyes, but the corners of his lips curl up. "I can still hope."

 

He returns and flops on his stomach on the bed, head supported by his hands.

"So..."

"So your father?"

"When Sam ran away, his drinking got worse. He was unbearable. And then one day he just got lost. He left and didn’t come back for days, didn’t answer his phone. I didn’t know what to do and I panicked. The only thing I could come up with was driving to Stanford and dragging Sam with me."

He sighs, it’s hard to go through these memories.

"We found him almost beaten to death. I can only guess that one of the more shady jobs had gone wrong. He was happy to have Sam back though and everything looked better. I was almost happy, I even thought he’d stopped drinking." He shakes his head, huffing out a short chuckle.

"He dragged us across the country because he had something to pick up. He didn’t tell me what it was and I didn’t ask. When we finally got it, he was even happier, he said we were going to celebrate. I should’ve never let him drive that night."

Cas reaches for him and squeezes his hand.

"He says it wasn’t an accident, that the truck was driven by one of the guys who were after him. I think he was driving too fast and was too drunk."

"Was it serious?"

"Yeah. Pretty serious. Sam was in the backseat so nothing happened to him. Thankfully, because otherwise, I would have killed dad."

"But you two got injured?"

Dean nods. "Dad was busted pretty bad, but I was on the side that got hit by the truck. It was bad, they weren’t giving me much chance."

"Oh god, Dean." Cas grabs him and like he’s just a rag doll pulls him into an embrace. Dean exhales sharply and buries his nose in the crook of Cas’ neck. He likes his smell, it anchors him.

"I have a surprise for you, it has a happy ending. I survived," he mutters and grins widely when it makes Cas chuckle.

"I’m really relieved," he says and kisses Dean’s forehead. "Is this from the accident?" he asks, trailing the scar that runs up Dean’s forehead and disappears in his hair.

"Yeah. It’s a reminder."

"So what happened next? What about your father?"

"He went to rehab. I sent Sam back to Stanford. I was rebuilding the Impala when I found a false floor of the trunk and the money hidden there. It was a lot of money and I knew if dad got them, he would spend them on booze."

"You didn’t believe the rehab would work."

Dean shakes his head. "I will probably never believe anything good can happen if John Winchester is involved."

Cas nods and waits for Dean to continue. "I sent some money to Sam’s account and rented myself an apartment. I wanted to find myself a respectable job and finally start to live a normal life. But I was almost 26 years old, with only a GED, and I didn’t know anything maybe except fixing cars. And then I saw the shop and I remembered something I dreamed about as a teenager. I always loved music and books, but my dad said it was for girls. So I took the rest of the money, rented the place and opened my shop."

"Are you in touch with your dad?"

"No. He tries to call me, but I don’t want to talk to him."

Cas stays quiet, but by the way he presses his lips into a thin line, Dean knows he has something to say.

"How is the shop doing?" he asks eventually.

"Not very well. Actually, when I went to the club and paid for your... services, it was the first time I paid rent and something was left. You were my way of celebrating."

Castiel laughs. "That was very clever of you."

Dean blushes, feeling a bit ashamed. Cas is someone who deals with money every day, so he must think Dean is stupid for doing such a reckless thing.

Cas cuts the train of his thoughts by running his hand through Dean’s hair and kissing him.

"I’m glad the story has a happy ending," he says, looking Dean in the eyes in the intense way that makes Dean squirm.

"Does it?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Of course. You are getting out of the influence of your father. You are living on your own, doing what you like, allowing yourself the things you think your dad wouldn’t approve of."

Dean smiles. "Like you?"

"Hmm, I hoped I might be a bit more than just a rebellion."

"Hmm, we shall see," Dean purrs. He runs his lips along Cas’ jaw, enjoying the burn of stubble. 

 


	6. The Perfect Display

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the lovely comments! I´m really happy you liked the last chapter and hope you´ll like this one too.

Castiel makes a note of everything he has learned about Dean from his story. He has a similar talk with his clients sometimes when they feel like (that) it. It’s good to know the person’s backstory, it helps him guess what makes them tick.

Growing up without a mother and with a distant father, being responsible for his brother since he was a child himself, the need for approval and praise, it all has made Dean the man he is.

The need to make his partner feel good is nothing new for Castiel. But with Dean, it isn’t only about making him feel good in bed. He wants to keep him safe, to make him happy, to change his life for the better. Hell, he feels like changing the whole world to make it a better place for boys like Dean. And himself, because he’s well aware of the similarities between their lives.

There’s still a lot they have to learn about each other, but what Dean told him added a few pieces to the jigsaw puzzle Dean Winchester is and Castiel likes the picture that is emerging.

Letting go of the ideals his father gave him and allowing himself to be who he really is has cost Dean a lot of energy and he still has a long way to go. Castiel feels honored to be by his side.

"Will you stay?" he asks after a few minutes of cuddling.

"Stay?" Dean raises an eyebrow.

"Yes. It’s the weekend so we don’t have to go to work. I thought we could watch some movies. I can cook something,"

Dean’s eyes sparkle with interest.

"You cook?"

Castiel smiles, sometimes Dean seems very young, excited about the smallest things. It always makes Cas’ heart melt a little.

"Yes. I’m quite fond of cooking."

"Alright. I can help, you know? With cutting and chopping and stirring and what not."

Castiel can’t fight back a laugh. He has to kiss the excited smile on Dean’s face.

They finally get out of bed only to settle down on the couch. The weather is cold, the sky gray, an ideal day to spend cuddling and watching a movie. As Castiel checks what Claire was watching, Dean examines his living room.

"Who is that?"

Cas looks up to see Dean frowning at the two large black and white photos on the wall. One of them is of a beautiful naked woman, on her knees. The photo shows her back, she’s tied with a rope that forms kind of a bodice and ties her hands behind her back. Her pale skin contrasts nicely with the background and her wide hips and slim waist make a beautiful line. The other photo is of a man, similarly tied, but from the front. His face and genitals are hidden in shadows.

"It’s me and Meg," Castiel answers. Dean turns to him, still frowning.

"And who’s Meg?"

Castiel hears the hint of jealousy in Dean’s voice and tries not to smile.

"She’s a friend of mine, she’s taught me a lot. The photo is from a workshop where we learned this special type of bondage. She tied me and I tied her."

Dean’s expression shifts and now he looks sad, Castiel doesn’t understand it. Dean averts his eyes when he starts talking again. "Was she...yours?"

Cas snorts and shakes his head. "Dean if you want to try to ask if I slept with her then no. I’m gay. I don’t sleep with women. If you want to know if she subbed for me, then yes. And I subbed for her."

Dean’s eyes widen in shock, it’s adorable.

"You were a sub? But I thought-" he trails off, blushing a bit, ashamed of his lack of knowledge.

"Meg is a switch. And I wanted to have the experience. I believe it made me a better Dom. And it helped me to know myself better."

Dean nods, worrying his lower lip with his teeth, deeply in thought, eyes fixed on the photos.

Castiel looks at them too. He likes them because they are decent enough to hang in a living room but at the same time, they’re very sensual. Castiel hasn’t become a specialist on shibari, he didn’t have the patience to learn it in its complexity, but he cherishes the experience. It was a good idea to have the photos taken as a reminder. He lets his eyes roam over the angles of his own body on the picture. He was about Dean’s age, his body firmer, leaner than it’s now. He looks at Dean, see the lust in his eyes and feels an uncomfortable twist in his stomach.

“I don’t look like that anymore“ he says with a lopsided smile.

Dean’s eyes snap to him. “What?“

“Isn’t it what you were thinking about?“ Cas asks, he avoiding Dean’s eyes. He feels the warmth of shame creeping to his cheeks. It occurred to him before, that things might be better if the age difference wasn’t so big. He just didn’t need to know Dean wishes it too.

Dean responses with a huff of laughter. “Come on, Cas, don’t be stupid. You’re still smoking hot. Maybe even more now“

Cas looks up, heart pounding, his lips curl into a smile.

“You think so?“

Dean laughs again, warm and fond. “I didn’t expect you to be self-conscious“

Cas shrugs. “Everybody is sometimes. Especially old men like me who fuck hot boys like you.“

Dean slaps his shoulder, laughing again. Cas likes to make him laugh almost as much as he likes to make him moan. “Come on, you’re not so old. You’re like what, thirty?„

“Thirty-four.“

Dean rolls his eyes. “Pff, that’s far from old.”

“Anyway, what were you thinking about then?”

It’s Dean’s turn to blush. “I was just thinking about the tying thing,” he says gesturing to the photos.

Castiel smiles and lets himself think about it too. He imagines the ropes embracing Dean’s body, leaving lovely imprints on his freckled skin.

He has to shake his head to get a grip on himself. _Maybe one day_ , he thinks and it sounds like a promise.

He grins at Dean and changes the topic. "So what do you want to watch?"

 

They settle on marathoning the collection of Clint Eastwood’s movies Castiel received from his friend Gabriel.

When they get hungry, instead of helping as he promised, Dean stays on the couch and points out the important moments so Cas looks up from preparing the meat and vegetables. The kitchen is connected to the living area so he can watch the TV while working on the kitchen counter.

When A Fistful of Dollars ends, Dean turns off the player and joins Castiel in the kitchen.

"It smells good," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist. The domesticity of it strikes Castiel so hard he feels a surge of panic. He never wanted this, never dreamt of having a significant other. He enjoyed his solitude. This closeness and warmth is something he never experienced. It’s scary, he doesn’t want to let himself like it too much, scared that if something goes wrong, he won’t be able to bear the hurt.

He plasters a professional smile on his face and gently nudges Dean away.

"Could you please set the table?"

Dean huffs out a breath, but obliges, asking Cas where to find cutlery and glasses.

"There’s a bottle of wine in the cabinet I received from a colleague, you can open it if you want."

Dean frowns. "So I’m the only one who gets drunk again?"

Castiel’s chest clenches painfully, he looks at Dean over his shoulder. "You said you weren’t drunk last night."

Dean rolls his eyes. "The point I’m trying to make is that I don’t want to drink alone."

Castiel sighs, turning back to the saucepan.

"I can have a glass."

Dean hums behind him and goes get the bottle.

Cas relaxes a bit and smiles when he gets an idea.

"Hand me the bottle, I’ll pour some into the sauce."

 

Dean is sitting at the table, a bit impatient, his stomach growling, watching Cas as he scoops the food on plates. He shoots him a bright smile when a plate is set in front of him, but then he freezes.

Cas takes his place and grabs the fork, then looks at Dean with a squint.

"What’s wrong, Dean?"

Dean looks at the colorful pieces peeking out of the brown sauce and pokes one of them with a fork.

"Nothing, I just...I don’t like vegetables too much."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "Don’t be a baby."

Dean pouts and pushes a piece of carrot to the edge of the plate. He’s going to pick out the pieces of chicken and leave the vegetable, it’s no big deal.

"You are at least going to try it, right?" Cas asks and Dean can’t tell if his tone is more amused or exasperated.

"Uhm... " before he can come up with an excuse, Cas uses his fork to pick a piece of cauliflower from Dean’s plate.

Dean snorts and turns his head away when Cas tries to feed it to him.

"Come on, Dean," Cas urges him with laughter tinging his voice.

"No," Dean moans shaking his head vehemently and pushes his hand holding the fork away.

"Dean." He doesn’t shout, but his voice still sounds like a thunder. It sends a shiver down Dean’s spine and makes him freeze.

"Stay still and open your mouth."

Dean turns to him, eyes wide, heart beating like he just ran a marathon. Castiel’s face is relaxed, but his eyes are unyielding.

Dean slowly parts his lips, eyes still bored into the blue depth of Castiel’s stare.

Cas puts the fork into his mouth and gives him a small nod. Dean shuts his mouth around the fork and feels it being pulled out, the cold metal dragging against his lips.

He starts to chew and has to conceal a moan when his taste buds are hit. It doesn’t taste like he thinks vegetables usually taste. It’s crispy on the surface and soft on the inside and it’s immersed in spices and the sauce from the meat. He can even taste a hint of the wine.

He swallows and without thinking opens his mouth for another forkful.

He sees Castiel’s pupils dilate as he takes a sharp breath. He only rips his eyes off of Dean’s face when he looks down at the plate.

He offers Dean a piece of carrot this time, but when Dean leans in to take it, he draws back. His eyes glint mischievously as he waits for Dean’s reaction.

Dean knows he could grab Castiel’s arm and take the bite, or he could just grab his own fork and ignore the man entirely. But that would mean letting Cas win and that’s not going to happen.

Instead, he slides off his chair and without letting go of Cas’ stare, he drops to his knees.

Castiel’s lips part and his chest start to rise and fall in a much quicker rhythm.

Dean crawls on his knees between Castiel’s parted legs. Looking up at him, he places his hands on Cas’ thighs and opens his mouth.

He notices Castiel’s breath hitch at the touch. His hand is shaking almost imperceptibly when he feeds Dean the carrot, but Dean feels it through the fork that vibrates slightly in Cas’ grip.

This time when he chews, Cas strokes his jaw. His hand slides to Dean’s throat just in time to feel him swallow.

Dean feels a bit dizzy as all his blood rushes south. It’s like nothing around him exist except him, Castiel and the delicious food he’s feeding him.

He lets out a moan to let Cas know that he likes what’s happening. The Dom squeezes his eyes shut to steady himself, but when he opens them it’s to get another forkful for Dean.

Neither of them makes a sound except for soft gasps and muffled moans as the plate empties slowly.

Dean refuses to open his mouth just once, shaking his head. He feels his stomach knot as he waits if Cas gets angry, but the Dom understands Dean’s intentions and eats the bite himself. From now on he doesn’t forget to take a bite himself every time it takes Dean a bit longer to chew. He also holds the wine glass for Dean to take a sip from every now and then.

Dean realizes they’re finished when he hears the fork clatter against a plate.

Dean’s sight has become a bit misted-up but he tries to focus on Castiel’s face. Castiel looks utterly wrecked. There are specks of red high on his cheeks, his eyes are almost entirely swallowed by black and his pants are tented.

Dean keeps his eyes on his face when he leans down and rubs his cheek against Cas’ inner thigh, lips coming close to the bulge of his erection but not touching.

Cas gasps audibly. He runs his hand through Dean’s hair and nods.

Given the permission, Dean doesn’t hesitate. He nuzzles at Cas’ crotch, mouths at the hard length of his cock under the soft fabric.

Castiel chokes out a groan and bucks his hips up. Dean smiles up at him, grabs the waistband of his sweats and tugs them down.

He feels his own cock twitch in response as he finally sees Cas’ hard flesh. Experimentally, he sucks the flushed head into his mouth. The sound that escapes Castiel’s throat sends a rush of arousal through Dean’s body. Wanting to hear more of those lovely sounds, he runs his tongue from the base to the tip.

Cas buries his hand in Dean’s hair but doesn’t urge him to take him deeper. Dean takes it as a permission to proceed at his own pace. He takes some time just licking Cas’ length and lapping at the head, he mouths and sucks at Cas’ balls. Then he finally takes him in.

He always liked sucking cock and surprisingly he wasn’t as ashamed of it as he was of other things.

He uses the whole arsenal of the tricks he’s learned from receiving and giving blowjobs, trying to show Castiel how good he is.

He’s so eager he chokes a few times, spit is dripping down his chin, but he doesn’t care.

 

Castiel is sure Dean will be the cause of his death. He didn’t plan to do anything sexual with Dean today, wanting him to get rest and sort his thoughts. But then Dean dropped to his knees in a perfect display of submission and how could Cas resist that?

And now Dean’s sucking him like his life depends on it.

Castiel’s hand that isn’t in Dean’s hair tightens on the armrest, his knuckles whitening.

"Dean," he growls as a warning when he knows he can’t hold back anymore.

Instead of pulling away, Dean just moans around his cock like it’s the best thing he’s ever had in his mouth.

The vibration of his voice goes right through him. The climax hits him like a punch in the gut.

He chokes out a broken cry, throwing his head back and forcing himself with all his willpower not to push deeper into Dean’s throat.

Like when he was feeding him, he places his hand softly on Dean’s throat to feel it bob as the sub swallows his load.

"Oh god, Dean." Castiel blurts out, the first words spoken since they started eating. He pulls Dean up and into his lap, kissing the taste of himself from Dean’s mouth.

He reaches between Dean’s legs with the intention to take care of him. He gasps in surprise as he feels his soft cock and the wet stain soaking through his jeans.

"You came just like that?" he asks, staring at Dean in awe. Dean averts his eyes with a deep blush coloring his cheeks.

"It was really hot, okay? The feeding and then the dessert." His lips quirk into a smug smirk and he peeks at Cas through thick eyelashes. Castiel bursts into laughter and pulls Dean closer to his chest, wrapping his arms around him.

"Are you even real?" he mumbles into Dean’s hair. "You’re so good. Such a talent. I-"

_I love you_ hangs on the tip of his tongue. He knows it’s not true, not yet. He would say it like _I love Clint Eastwood,_ or _I love sex._

But maybe, given enough time...

"I’m so lucky I met you, Dean. You’re perfect."

Dean nuzzles at his neck and purrs contently.

 

They spend the rest of the evening on the couch, Cas lying on his back and Dean splayed on his chest like a human blanket. They share kisses when the movie they’re watching is slow, but it never gets heated.

When they finish the last part of the trilogy, Cas has to drag Dean to bed or he would sleep where he is.

"Thank you," Dean mumbles when they settle on the bed, bodies pressed together, limbs tangled.

"What for?" Cas asks with an eyebrow arched questioningly.

"For not letting me back off."

Castiel smiles but shakes his head.

"You came yourself. If you had really wanted to run, you would have."

"But you took me back, you didn’t throw me away like a broken toy when I freaked out."

Castiel’s expression turns serious. "You’re not a toy, Dean."

Dean smiles, his eyes are warm and shining like emeralds.

"Thank you."

Castiel kisses the corner of his lips. "Now shut up and sleep."

Dean chuckles and buries his face in Cas’ chest.

A few minutes later he’s snoring softly.

 

Dean wakes up to Castiel staring at him.

"Dude, stop that. It’s creepy," he mumbles, hiding his face in the pillow.

Cas chuckles softly, the sound which always makes Dean’s heart flutter a bit, and runs his hand through Dean’s sleep-mussed hair.

"You look cute when you sleep," he says leaning down to press a kiss to the soft spot behind Dean’s ear. Dean huffs out and pushes him away.

Castiel fights the urge to tickle him, he pulls away instead, sitting on his heels.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

That catches Dean’s interest, he shifts and looks at him with one eye.

"Pancakes?" Castiel suggest, "eggs? Bacon?"

"Dude, if you make me breakfast you’ll never get rid of me."

Castiel shoots him a wide grin and hops off the bed.

Feeling a surge of affection that spreads through his body like a wave of warmth, Dean grabs Cas’ pillow and wraps his arms around it. It smells like Cas.

Dean realizes he must have drifted off when he's awakened by the smell of bacon.

Humming, he enters the kitchen. Cas smiles at him over his shoulder and gestures to the coffee pot. Dean helps himself to a mug and takes a seat at the table. When Cas sets a plate of greasy goodness in front of him, he wonders if he’s really awake. This all seems like a perfect domestic dream. From some deep corner of his mind, he hears a small voice telling him that he should be scared. He shoves a forkful of eggs into his mouth and moans, which makes the voice shut up.

He knows this is just a house made of cards and something is inevitably going to blow it, but he’s too content to think about the future so he decides to just enjoy this while it lasts.

He chews happily, humming under his breath and he doesn’t realize that Castiel is suspiciously silent until he reaches for his coffee and notices the other man picking at his pancakes like there’s something wrong with them.

Dean places a hand on Castiel’s wrist to catch his attention. "Cas?"

Castiel looks at him with wide eyes that are pale blue in the morning sun, he looks a bit startled.

"Hm?"

"Is something wrong?" Dean asks, his concern growing.

"No!" Cas shakes his head, smiling reassuringly, but then he bows his head again.

"I was just thinking... I need to talk with you about yesterday."

Dean feels a pang of pain in his chest as anxiety digs its claws into him.

He sets his fork on the almost empty plate, drinks the rest of his coffee, then looks straight at Cas.

"Talk then."

Castiel reaches under the table to squeeze his thigh, but Dean jerks away. He’s sure Cas’s changed his mind, he’s going to politely tell Dean that he sucks at being both a sub and a boyfriend and that he’s going to find someone better.

Cas takes a deep breath, his eyes are soft as he speaks, but Dean isn’t going to get fooled by that.

"Were you serious when you said you don’t want to back off?"

There’s a lump in Dean’s throat, he tries to swallow it, but to no avail.

"Yeah, I did. But I get it if you changed your mind."

Castiel’s expression turns confused. Dean tries not to think about how the squint reminds him of an overgrown kitten.

"Change my mind about what?"

"About me," Dean answers, the words getting stuck in his throat. "About wanting me."

Cas opens his mouth but Dean stops him with a raised hand.

"Look I now that I’m bad at this and I get it if you don’t want to waste your time on someone who freaks out every other day."

"Dean, that’s not what I-"

"Cas, you don’t have to-"

"Stop!" Cas raises his voice just a little, but he uses the tone that makes Dean’s mind come to a halt.

"Will you please listen to me instead of just assuming what I was going to say?"

Fighting a bout of defiance, Den nods, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"I was asking if you want to continue because I do."

Something under Dean’s breast bone shifts, he’s not sure if it’s shock or relief.

"I didn’t change my mind about you, Dean. On the contrary, I’m more and more convinced that you’re just perfect for me."

Heat rises into Dean’s cheeks, he feels like his heart is a hummingbird caught in the cage of his ribs.

"I’m still convinced that you’re a natural and I liked the time we spent together, not only the sex."

Dean tries to even out his breath, he feels like he’s about to have a panic attack. One thing is experiencing a moment of domestic bliss, but hearing Cas say all these things out loud is much worse.

"You are right about one thing. I want to avoid any other unpleasant experience if it’s possible. That’s why we need to talk."

"About what?" Dean chokes out.

"About what you like and what makes you feel bad. I need to know what works for you. I can assume some things but communication is essential. I underestimated it before and I don’t want to do the same thing again."

"So you want to talk about sex?"

The corner of Cas’ mouth twitches. "Basically, yes."

"Fine," Dean sighs. He knows it’s going to be awkward and he’s probably going to blush like a schoolgirl, but it’s better than talking about feelings. The mere thought that he’s developing feelings for Cas is frightening. He shouldn’t be surprised, he’s dating the guy officially but... he expected a slow burn, but feels like he’s been thrown into deep water.

He’s startled when Cas suddenly stands up and offers him a hand.

"Let's move this somewhere more comfortable," he suggests.

Dean gets up, but doesn’t take his hand. He still feels like he’s been sent to the principal.

They settle on the couch, Cas on one end and Dean on the other. The distance between them feels cold and hostile. Dean’s hands itch to touch, but something is holding him back.

"I’d like to touch you when we discuss this," Cas says. "If you’re comfortable with it."

Dean shivers and bites his lower lip. He shifts closer and lets Cas drape his arm around his shoulders.

The moment he smells Cas and feels the warmth of his body, he relaxes and leans against his side.

"Okay, let’s get on with this," he says, letting his eyes fall shut.

Cas presses a kiss to the top of his head before he starts.

"I want you to think of the first time we had sex and tell me how it made you feel."

Dean leaves his eyes closed and tries to get back in his memory. How did he feel? Scared at first, but then?

"Pretty," he says and starts blushing already.

"Wanted. Special.... Good." He hesitates, searching for the right words. "Not good like I felt good, but like I _was_ good."

He feels stupid, so he tries to come up with a better explanation. He opens his eyes and grabs a cushion, hugging it to his chest and hiding his face in it.

"When you told me to do something and I managed to do it, I felt good. I liked to please you."

He’s glad Cas doesn’t make him look at him because his cheeks are burning. He’s also getting turned on by the memory.

"And it was easy. I didn’t have to think about what to do to please you. You told me what to do and I didn’t have to care about anything."

"So taking orders is easy for you?"

Dean feels Cas’ hand on his back, drawing soothing patterns. He nods.

"It felt... safe. I trusted you. It felt like if I did what you wanted me to do, everything was going to be alright. I especially liked when I was tied up because I knew I couldn’t fuck up."

Castiel hums and kisses Dean’s shoulder. He keeps his chin resting there so his mouth is close to Dean’s ear when he asks his next question.

"Were you afraid of making a mistake? Of disobeying?"

Dean frowns. It’s been quite pleasant to think about the experience so far, but now they seem to be getting into a dangerous territory.

"I wasn’t afraid of a punishment, not much. I didn’t want to disappoint you." His voice is weak at the end, his chest tight with anxiety. Even imagining how it would feel to disappoint Cas makes him sick.

"Dean, look at me," Cas orders, voice soft but authoritative.

Dean looks up and realizes that there are tears in his eyes. Not because he’s upset, he’s just getting overwhelmed again. He bites his lip hard to fight the feeling.

Cas gently grabs his chin and kisses his lips, licking the tender spot Dean’s been worrying with his teeth.

"I want you to know that so far, you’ve never disappointed me." His eyes are intense and Dean feels like he’s looking up in the sky. A thought about flying flicks through his mind and is gone before he can grasp it.

"Now tell me what was wrong with the second time."

Dean frowns, with a sigh he turns away. He leans his chin on the cushion in his arms but this time he doesn’t hide his face.

"It wasn’t wrong when it lasted." His frown deepens as he’s trying to get through the haze of the day after, to remember the night as it was and not twisted by the self-hatred and confusion that came later.

"I felt beautiful, powerful when I saw what I did to you." His cock twitches with interest at the thought.

"But in the morning I... I felt dirty, wrong."

"Why?"

"Because I took what I wanted and I begged and..." he heaves a deep breath, "I know it’s stupid but it feels okay when you give it to me when I feel like I don’t have a say in it. It feels wrong when I take it myself or ask for it."

Castiel nods. "It’s alright, Dean. It’s hard for you to admit that you want it. It’s understandable."

Dean rolls his head so his cheek rests on the pillow and he’s looking at Cas.

"I’m sorry."

"Don’t be." Cas strokes his cheek. "We will work on that. And when you embrace what you want it will make you free, I promise. But I’m not going to push you."

Dean nods, he feels like the conversation has drained him.

"Thank you for telling me all this. Now I can take better care of you."

Dean lets himself being pulled into an embrace. He’s tired and maybe it won’t hurt to let someone take care of him. Just once. Just here between four walls where nobody sees.

"I want to ask one last thing," Cas mumbles into the crook of Dean’s shoulder.

"Hm?"

"What about the kneeling?"

Dean looks up. "Was it wrong?" he blurts out, eyes wide.

Cas chuckles and kisses the tip of his nose.

"No, it was perfect, Dean." He shakes his head like he can’t believe something. "God, I’m getting hard just thinking about it."

A small unsure smile appears on Dean’s lips.

"But it surprised me greatly. I didn’t expect that from you. How did that feel?"

Dean notices that he’s hesitating if he should say more so he waits.

"People usually find it humiliating. And some of them like it."

He quirks an eyebrow, asking silently if that’s Dean’s case.

"It didn’t feel like that," Dean says, fidgeting with the hem of Cas’ shirt.

"Not at all. I don’t know how I felt, though. Why I did it." He scowls, thinking. He’s not used to analyzing his feelings.

"I wanted to get you," he admits. "I somehow knew it would turn you on if I... if I gave myself to you."

There’s a glint in Castiel’s eyes that makes him continue.

"It didn’t feel like surrendering. I knew you wouldn’t think lesser of me if I did it and there wasn’t anybody else to judge me so no humiliation."

His own words get back to him and he realizes he’s managed to get rid of the annoying voice that keeps reminding him of what his dad would think of him just at the same time as Cas pulls him in for a kiss.

"Congratulations, Dean," Cas growls against his lips. "You discovered the power a sub has over their Dom."

Dean grins at him a bit breathless from the kiss and from the comment.

They kiss again, even more vigorously than before. Cas pulls Dean into his lap. Straddling him, Dean feels that they’re both semi hard.

"Wanna try something now?" Cas asks with a hopeful look.

Dean rolls his hips and nibbles at Cas’ jaw. "Yes."

"That’s my good boy," Cas sighs kissing his neck.

"Yours," Dean breathes out, throwing his head back. Then it hits him. He feels much better now when he got it off his chest and they made things clearer between them. But he still needs to seal it. To assure Cas he’s serious and at the same time to make sure that Cas Cas meant what he said too.

"Cas," he moans, "mark me. Please." His cock twitches when he says the words. He wants it more than he realized.

Castiel looks at him, lips parted. "What?"

Dean swallows the uneasy feeling growing in his chest. He knows Cas wants it too, or at least he wanted it a few days ago.

"I want it, Cas. Please. I’m sure."

Something in Castiel’s eyes changes, they’re suddenly darker, predatory.

Without a word he yanks at Dean’s hips, making him lie on his back with Cas on top of him. Dean yelps in surprise.

Car drags the tip of his nose along the vein on Dean’s neck, making his skin tingle with anticipation.

Dean wraps his arms around Cas’ back, running his palms over the shifting muscles.

"I’m going to mark you as mine," Castiel purrs and licks the shell of Dean’s ear. "But you’re mine only as long as you want." He presses his lips against the pulse point on Dean’s neck and sucks.

Dean gasps, his hips move on their own volition, grinding against Cas.

"I’ll take care of you," Cas continues, trailing kisses down to Dean’s collarbone and leaving another bruise there.

He straightens a bit so he can look Dean in the eye. As he speaks, he pushes Dean’s shirt up his chest, revealing more skin to leave his mark on.

"You’re mine, but I don’t own you, Dean. You’re free to go."

He waits for Dean to express his understanding with a small nod, then dips down to suck and bite at Dean’s hips.

He mutters _mine_ between each mark, eliciting a soft _yours_ out of Dean.

 


	7. Self Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter I was the most hesitant to post. I hope you won´t find it too weird.  
> A big thank you for keeping me motivated goes to my beta and all the lovely people who liked and commented this fic

All the doubts Dean had about the two of them have dissolved almost entirely in the course of days. At least those regarding their sex life. He´s still not sure about the rest. What he’s sure about is, that with Cas holding him firmly, he can admit to himself what he likes. He can trust Cas that he will guide him carefully and not let him get overwhelmed.

He’s thinking about their last time together as he’s sorting the Indie section in his shop.

He asked to be tied up. It was hard to meet Cas’ eyes, his cheeks were burning, but the Dom responded with a soft smile. Before Dean could specify his request, Cas was already holding his blue tie. Dean shivered when Cas stepped closer slipping the tie around Dean´s neck and used it to pull him closer.

Dean straightens the row of albums starting with M and runs his fingers mindlessly over his lips, feeling the ghost of Castiel’s breath when he was explaining what he was going to do to him.

His hands shake a little as the memories flood his mind. He remembers being tied to the headboard, Castiel under him. His thighs were burning as he was straddling his Dom, just the head of his cock breaching Dean’s hole, a husky voice telling him not to move.

He whimpered and moaned, but obeyed, staying as still as he could while Castiel fucked hard into him. Dean was held by his throat, looking down at the Dom’s face and he felt safe. This time it didn’t feel wrong when he begged for more.

He thinks about how hard he came when Castiel finally let him ride his cock and he has to discretely press the heel of his palm to his crotch, glad that the shop is almost empty.

The part he isn’t so happy about is the talking. Castiel made him describe what he felt, what he liked. It was hard and made Dean squirm. He felt an urge to hide or flee, but Cas held him. Dean understood it was important for Cas, that he tried to avoid another freakout, but if he had the chance, he’d omit that part and rather spend the time cuddling.

A snap of fingers by his ear brings him back to the present. He turns around with a start to see a shock of red hair and wide eyes looking up at him.

"Earth to Winchester!”

Dean exhales with relief. He knows the girl can’t possibly know what he’s been thinking about, but the tips of his ears turn red anyway.

"Hey, Charlie!" he greets awkwardly.

"Whoa, she must be something special if she can put this lovestruck expression on your face."

Dean blinks at her, utterly confused. "Who?"

"The chick that made sure everyone notices her marks on you," the redhead answers with a cheeky smile and heads to the counter, leaving Dean standing by the shelf staring at her like an idiot.

Dean mindlessly touches the tender spots on his throat where he knows Cas´ marks are blooming purple and feels a rush of excitement that he promptly suppresses.

He follows Charlie to the counter where she starts pulling comic books out of her backpack.

"So who’s she? Is it serious?" she inquires.

Dean swallows thickly and forces himself to move. His mind working like a crazy clockwork, trying to come up with an answer in the limited time before he reaches the other side of the counter.

For a moment he considers just ignoring her, asking about the comics she brought him, but when he looks up at her, she’s looking at him with a warm smile and head tilted in a sign of genuine curiosity.

His heart gives a hard thud and the tension leaves his shoulders. Charlie is his friend. She’s the first person he got to know when he moved here and she helped him with the shop. She was nothing but supportive no matter how stupid his problems were. And even though he doesn’t have a problem per se, when he looks in her eyes he realizes he needs someone to talk to. And who else than his quirky gay friend?

"It’s not a she," he blurts out.

She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head. "Beg your pardon?"

Dean bites his lower lip and looks at the issue of Young Avengers on top of the pile.

"It’s not a she. It’s a he. And I think it’s pretty serious."

She shuts her mouth with an audible click when he looks up.

"Uh, I... I’m so sorry, I assumed-"

"That’s okay," Dean breathes out. He expects her to yell something like _Yay, you’re queer_ , or _Welcome to the club._ But all he gets is a bright smile.

"So tell me about him. How did you meet? How long have you been together?" She’s almost bouncing on her feet with excitement. Dean feels the knot in his stomach unfurl itself.

"His name is Castiel," he says and he can’t keep the corners of his lips from turning up into a smile.

"He’s older than me and he’s an accountant."

Charlie frowns and her lips curl as if she´s tasted something sour. "An accountant? I expected something more exciting."

Dean drops his eyes, worrying his lower lip. His blood is rushing through his veins when he thinks about Cas and he feels like telling Charlie everything. Every exciting detail about Cas wants to burst out of his chest. On the other side, he’s not sure if he’s allowed to.

"Oh, please tell me the job is just a cover for his superhero activity!" Charlie chuckles when she sees his hesitation.

Dean huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. "Not really," he mutters.

"Come on, Winchester. Tell me!" she leans on the counter and punches his shoulder lightly.

Dean chuckles and raises his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright." He takes a deep breath and meets her eyes. "He’s a professional Dom."

The second he has to wait for her reaction feels like an eternity and he expects everything from disgust to mockery.

Charlie’s eyes widen with interest.

"Really? That’s so cool!"

Dean lets out a sigh and pokes at the wood with the nail of his thumb, smiling. "Yeah, it is."

"So that’s how you met?"

Dean nods. "I paid him the first time." There’s a slimy tentacle of shame twisting in his belly, but he stomps on it imagining Cas’ voice telling him that there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

"I was blindfolded so I didn’t recognize him when he came here to buy a book but he approached me."

"Oh god!" Charlie’s hands shoot up to cover her mouth. "I can’t decide if that’s really romantic or really creepy," she says through her fingers.

Dean chuckles, shaking his head. "It was a coincidence. He lives a block away. I think he felt pretty bad for addressing me."

She has an expression of a child opening the best Christmas gift ever. "But he couldn’t resist?"

Dean grins and nods.

She claps her hands, her giggle ringing through the small space of the shop.

"That’s awesome, Dean! So how long have you been together? Is it going well?"

Dean rubs the back of his neck, suddenly feeling insecure.

"We... we’ve had just one date and I spent the weekend at his place. But it’s... intense. Like a rollercoaster."

She nods, understanding visible in her eyes.

"I really hope it works out. You look happier than I ever saw you."

A blush colors his cheeks, but he doesn’t feel embarrassed. To be honest he actually feels pretty happy.

"Thanks, Charlie."

* * *

 

The moment Castiel opens the door, Dean’s on him, pressing their mouths together, hands roaming and tugging.

"Dean," Cas breathes against his lips, trying to put at least an inch of space between them.

"Hey," Dean whispers, nuzzling at his neck.

"What happened?" Cas asks, confused but with a smile on his lips.

"I just really wanted to see you," Dean mutters, dragging his lips along the edge of Cas’ jaw.

Cas buries his hands in Dean’s hair and tugs his head back so he can look him in the eyes. There’s a hint of concern in his look.

Dean tries to lean in to kiss him, but the Dom doesn’t let him. It makes him calm down a fraction, but the buzz in his veins doesn’t subside.

"I came out to a friend." He grins, watching as Cas’ face lights up.

"She’s gay so I dunno if it counts, but she’s the only one I ever told beside the people I slept with and god it feels good."

He feels out of breath when Cas’ hands slip to his shoulders and he pulls him into a hug.

"I’m so proud of you, Dean."

It feels like a huge rock has been lifted off his chest and he can’t stop talking.

"And I told her I was a sub, I mean I told her you were a Dom, but the implication is clear enough-" he trails off, straightening so he can see Cas’ face.

"You don’t mind that I told her?"

Cas shakes his head. "Of course not, I’m glad you did."

Dean chuckles and kisses him, this time Cas doesn’t stop him.

"I wanna play, Cas. Please."

Cas tightens his grip on Dean’s hips. "What do you want to do?"

"I don’t know. Whatever. Show me something new."

Cas grabs Dean’s hands to stop them from sliding under his shirt and twists them behind Dean’s back. Dean doesn’t fight, just fixes his eyes on him, giving him his full attention.

"Don’t you want to have a dinner first?"

"No," Dean moans. "I’m not hungry. I can’t wait." He cranes his neck so his mouth is close to Cas’ ear, his hands tugging against Cas’ grip.

"I even prepped myself for you."

Castiel freezes and Dean feels a shiver running down his spine.

"You touched yourself?" Castiel growls.

Dean swallows around the lump in his throat.

"Yes, sir. Was it wrong?" His voice cracks with the apprehension of Castiel’s anger.

The Dom lets go of Dean’s hands, his eyes have a dangerous glint in them when he speaks again.

"Take your clothes off and wait for me."

Dean opens his mouth to ask if he’s in trouble, but Cas’ stern look stops him.

Watching Castiel’s back as he disappears into the bedroom, he pulls his t-shirt over his head and folds it neatly. He continues with his pants, socks, and underwear and just when he puts all his clothes on the coffee table, he hears footsteps behind him.

He’s too afraid to examine the items in Cas’ hands, so he keeps his eyes fixed on his stony face.

"On your knees,“ Cas orders, pointing towards the couch.

Dean gets the hint and kneels on the carpet shifting closer to Castiel’s legs when the Dom takes a seat on the couch.

It’s strange how natural Dean finds this position - kneeling between Cas’ spread legs, looking up at the man. He’s aware of Castiel’s power over him, but he trusts him. He pushes away the fear of being punished and waits for Cas’ instructions, ready to redeem whatever mistake he made.

"You know how sometimes I forbid you to come?" Castiel asks, he doesn’t seem angry anymore. His voice is warm, but something stern remains in his expression. He reminds Dean of a teacher.

"Yes, sir," Dean answers automatically, realizing the unconscious hope that the address will please Castiel, only when the words are out of his mouth.

"And do you know why I do that?"

Dean sucks his lower lip between his teeth, worried that his answer will be wrong.

When he finally speaks, it’s in a hushed tone, eyes not meeting Castiel’s.

"Because it feels even better when I’m finally allowed to come?"

He sees Castiel’s pink lips curl into a smile and then a soft hand reaches for his face.

"That’s true." Cas sounds pleased as he gently strokes Dean’s cheekbone with the pad of his thumb.

"But there’s another reason."

Dean leans into the touch. "What is it?" His eyes flutter shut as the finger travels to his lower lip, brushing over it.

Cas’ fingers curl under Dean’s chin, forcing him to look up.

Castiel takes a moment to examine Dean’s face before he answers and Dean wonders what the Dom sees in his wide eyes.

"It’s because you’re mine. I’m the one in control over your body. Your orgasms belong to me."

Dean shivers at the intensity of Cas’ stare and his gravelly voice.

"It means you aren’t allowed to masturbate without my consent."

Dean tries to defend himself but is silenced by a finger pressed to his lips.

"You didn’t know it, Dean, so I’m going to let it slip this time. But from now on when you feel an urge to touch yourself, you’re going to call me, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." He tries to sound resolute, but he hardly hears himself over his heart beating frantically against his breastbone.

"I believe you won’t disappoint me," Cas says with a smile and leans down to press a kiss to Dean’s forehead.

When he pulls away Dean has to stop himself from crawling into his lap.

"The orgasm denial is something I want to focus on, now," Castiel continues, looking at the items lying beside him on the couch. Dean doesn’t follow his stare, though, eyes fixed on his face instead.

"You did well so far, but only because I let you off easy and I stopped when you started to lose control."

Dean feels his cheeks blush because he knows it’s true.

"We need to work on your self-control."

Dean nods, his lips trembling. He can’t tell if it’s because of nerves or excitement.

"I want you to hold back as long as I please and come on command. Do you think you can learn that for me?"

"Yes," Dean breathes out. He feels his shoulders relax when Castiel smiles.

Cas leans against the arm rest, one leg over the edge of the couch, the other bent. He pats the space between his legs. Dean stands up gingerly, knees popping. He lets Cas manhandle him into the desired position - leaning against him back to chest.

"Relax, sweet boy, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it," he murmurs kissing Dean’s neck, arms wrapped around his waist.

Dean lets out a sigh and leans his head on Cas’ shoulder, enjoying the warmth of the other man’s body against his naked skin.

"Spread your legs, bend your knees and hold them pressed to your chest," Cas instructs, his voice a deep rumble sending sparks down Dean’s spine.

The sub obeys, feeling his blood already rushing south at the anticipation coming with the revealing position.

Cas gently strokes the back of Dean’s thighs, then squeezes his firm ass cheeks. Dean is half hard when a finger brushes over the puckered skin of his entrance.

"Where were you when you prepared yourself?" Cas asks while he slowly prods at Dean’s hole.

"In my- my shop. In the bathroom," Dean stutters, the feeling of a finger sliding slowly inside him distracting.

Cas lets his finger slide out and pops a bottle of lube open, slicking his fingers. Only when two wet digits are buried in Dean’s body does he ask another question.

"Did you use just your hand or a toy?" he asks. Dean squirms, torn between grinding on Cas’ fingers to get them deeper and pulling away so he’s able to form a coherent sentence.

"Hand," he groans, his own fingers digging into the skin under his knees as Cas brushes against his prostate.

"Hmm." Cas sucks a mark into the back of Dean’s neck. "And do you ever use a toy?"

Dean nods, huffing out a breath as Cas twists and scissors his fingers. "I have a... a pink, a pink oh my god, Cas, I can’t!"

Castiel chuckles, his hot breath ruffling Dean’s hair.

"You prepped yourself well, but next time I want to see it." He pulls out, ignoring the disgruntled sound Dean makes.

"All right, I’m going to use this."

Dean blinks as a black silicone butt plug appears in his field of vision.

"You can take it in your hand," Cas suggest and Dean lets go of his right knee to touch the thing.

"It’s merely five inches in length, one and a half in girth. It’s designed to be comfortable even for a long use."

Dean nods, wondering how long Cas wants him to have it inside him. He would much prefer to be fucked by Cas’ cock, but he’s curious about how the plug is going to feel.

"And it’s vibrating," Cas adds. Dean gasps as the vibrations run through his hand. He cranes his head to look at Cas who’s holding up a small remote control.

"Oh," he says, his cock twitching with excitement.

"There are ten different modes. We’ll go through them and you’re going to inform me of how close you are to an orgasm.”

Dean swallows and nods.

Castiel lubes up the plug, then takes it from Dean’s hand. Dean resumes his position with his knees on his chest and takes a deep breath when he feels the cold tip of the plug against his hole.

It slips in quite easily and Dean experimentally clenches around it.

"Good?" Cas asks, his tongue lapping at the shell of Dean’s ear.

"Yeah. I’m ready." 

Despite his words, the buzz takes him by surprise, his whole body tenses due to the unfamiliar sensation.

He breathes out and relaxes, humming contently. The vibration is gentle, just teasing.

"More?" Cas asks.

"Yes."

The next mode adds a new sensation as the plug pulses. It’s pleasant but definitely not enough.

The next two modes get Dean achingly hard. He squirms and writhes in a vain attempt to get friction.

"More," he begs. Castiel chuckles nuzzling at Dean’s shoulder before he uses the control.

"Oh god, that’s good," Dean moans, arching his back.

"Are you close?"

Dean’s head lolls from side to side. "No, but it’s good, so good."

He wants more, he knows he would come if he touched his cock, but at the same time, he feels like he could spend all day like this. He wants the simmering warmth and buzz spreading through his body to never stop.

He almost misses Cas’ question in his own moans.

"Can I move on?"

"M’kay."

The next mode is even better. Dean’s skin is burning and suddenly he hates that it’s not Cas but some stupid artificial thing bringing him such pleasure. Craving touch he moans Castiel’s name and reaches for his arms.

"Shh, I’ve got you," Cas soothes him, pressing gentle kisses to his neck.

"Cas, please, please," he whines, grinding against Cas’ body, feeling his hardness pressed to his back.

"I can give you more, Dean, but remember you’re not allowed to come."

Dean groans, an animalistic sound formed in the back of his throat, and nods.

Castiel pushes the button. Dean’s eyes snap wide open and his lips fall slack. His chest heaves with labored breaths and his whole body tenses like a string as he fights against approaching orgasm.

Cas doesn’t hiss in pain when Dean’s nails dig into his forearm. He tries to comfort him by rubbing his shaking thighs, but it only makes Dean more frustrated.

He’s unable to speak, he barely makes a sound louder than a desperate whine.

He knows he could come like this, the vibrations against his prostate making him see stars, but he’s still able to hold on to the edge with nails and teeth.

"One last step," Cas murmurs into his ear. "I’m going to turn it now."

It takes a second for the device to react, then it’s like an electric current running through Dean.

His body arches like he’s being possessed and he cries out.

"Cas! Cas!" His voice is hoarse, tears teetering in the corners of his eyes.

A strong hand squeezes the base of his cock and the vibrations subside a few notches.

He falls back on Castiel’s chest, panting. His muscles are sore, his nerves still buzzing. He feels precome running down his shaft on Cas’ hand, but hasn’t come.

"That’s my boy. You did so well, Dean. You were amazing." The pride in Castiel’s voice makes Dean’s heart flutter. He shifts so he can bury his face in the junction of Cas’ shoulder and feels soft lips pressed to his forehead.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Dean breathes. He feels exhausted but he’s still desperately turned on at the same time, his ass oversensitive and cock twitching, but despite all this, he feels borderline ecstatic.

"You’re not gonna come with the vibrations set like this?"

Dean considers his answer. It’s harder now when he was so close to the edge. His inner muscles are clenching, asking for more, but he can stand it for a while.

"No, I’m fine."

Cas shifts and kisses him on the lips, licking into his mouth and sucking at his lower lip. Dean feels like he might have to change his mind, but then Cas is pulling away and making him sit up. Dean groans as the plug shifts inside him, the tip jabbing into his prostate.

"Great. Now get up and go make me some tea."

Dean turns around to look at Cas. His eyes widen when he realizes the Dom is serious.

Cas raises an eyebrow at the lack of response.

"Can you do that?"

A pang of defiance shoots through Dean’s chest and he gets to his feet.

It’s weird, the outer part of the plug is rubbing against his ass cheeks and it’s hard not to just grab his cock and reach the release.

"I can do it," he says, giving Cas a hard stare. "Sir," he adds and heads to the kitchen counter.

He tries to hide the little gasps and moans he makes when he walks.

Castiel’s eyes on his back are like a physical touch.

Dean tries to focus on his task, but every time he realizes he’s naked in Castiel’s kitchen with a vibrating plug filling his ass, he feels a renewed surge of arousal.

By the time he’s putting the tea bag into the hot water, his hands are trembling and he feels drained from hanging on the precipice for so long.

He turns around, the saucer in his hand, and sees Castiel lying on the couch, legs spread so the bulge in his pants is obvious.

Dean takes a step forwards and notices Cas’ raised hand with the control. He feels the change of the vibrating mode but doesn’t stop.

The plug shifts, the pulsing hitting Dean’s sweet spot.

He cries out, the cup slides off the saucer, hot liquid splashes out and the porcelain crashes on the floor.

"No!" Dean cries out falling to his knees. He hears hurried footsteps and feels a wave of fear.

"I’m so sorry, I’m sorry," he murmurs deliriously, picking up the sharp pieces of the broken cup.

He hears Castiel saying his name, but he doesn’t care. His vision is blurred at the edges, his ears ringing. He fucked up, he’s bad, he ruined everything and Cas is going to be mad at him.

He jerks away when Castiel grabs his hand.

"Dean!" He’s angry, Dean can hear it.

"I’m sorry, I’ll clean it up, I swear, I’m so sorry." His voice sounds weak, like a whine of a hurt animal, and Dean hates himself for it. He pushes Cas away and grabs another shard.

"Dean stop! You need to calm down!" He reaches for Dean again, but the sub turns hysterical. He doesn’t want Cas to touch him, to take care of his mess, he doesn’t deserve it!

"No!" he shouts, shaking his head, fighting against Cas’ hands that are trying to hold him.

"Bumblebee!"

Dean freezes immediately as if someone has turned a switch. The fight drains out of his body and he sags like a rag doll, staring at the spilled tea on the wooden floor.

"Oh god, Dean." Some part of Dean’s brain that is still functioning recognizes that there’s no anger in Castiel’s voice. He sounds concerned, scared even.

 "Come here, come here, it’s okay." He pulls the unresponsive sub into his arms.

"I’m so sorry," Dean sobs, tears running down his cheeks.

"No, shh, it’s okay. Everything is okay."

Dean shakes his head, sniffing. "It’s not. I messed up. I’m so sorry, Cas."

"You did nothing wrong, Dean. Come on, let’s get up."

He pulls Dean to his feet, the taller man staggers and grabs Cas’ shoulder to stay upright.

"Oh my god, Dean, you’re bleeding."

Dean blinks at the red stain his hand has left on Cas’ shirt. He must have cut his hand on the shards.

Before he can mutter another apology, Cas hauls him to the sink, gently washing the blood away.

Dean stares at his face. "I’m sorry," he whispers. Cas’ lips press together into a pale line, but he doesn’t say anything. He dries Dean’s hand and puts a band-aid over the cut.

He pushes a glass of cold water into Dean’s good hand and waits until he empties it.

"Bedroom," he orders, wrapping his arms around Dean so he can lean on him as they walk.

"Lay on your belly, I’m going to pull the plug out."

"No!" Dean flinches away. "I can go on! Please, Cas! I swear I won’t fuck up again!"

Castiel’s expression is calm, but Dean can sense he’s having a hard time to control himself.

"It’s over, Dean."

With a feeling that his knees are going to give up on him anyway, Dean drops on the bed, curling into the fetal position. He hides his head with his arms and swallows back a whimper as Castiel pulls the toy out.

He’s not going to cry again, it only shows how weak he is.

He doesn’t fight when Cas makes him roll to his other side and pulls him into his arms.

The intensity of Castiel’s sky-blue eyes is what snaps him out of his apathy.

"Dean, listen to me," he says, cupping Dean’s face with both his hands.

"You’re not going to get punished. I’m not mad at you, Dean. You did nothing wrong."

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head.

"I ruined the scene. I messed up your orders."

"Dean, I need you to understand that you’re only ever going to get punished for breaking an explicitly stated rule. Which you didn’t."

Dean opens his eyes, confused. "But I-"

"You weren’t allowed to orgasm, and you didn’t."

"But you wanted tea and I broke the cup."

"Yeah, that happens, Dean. The task I gave you was hard for your first time. You shouldn’t be ashamed of not delivering it."

Dean moans and buries his head in a pillow.

"I’m so sorry I’m so bad at this. I’m sorry I freaked out. I’m too weak, I’m sorry." He chokes as he feels tears threatening to spill again, his throat clogging.

Cas’ warm hand draws circles on his back.

"Stop punishing yourself, Dean. That’s my job."

Dean rolls his head to one side so he can look at the Dom.

"I feel like an idiot," he murmurs.

Castiel sighs, patting Dean’s hair.

"You know the punishment is supposed to make things easier for you."

Dean frowns, not understanding.

"It’s a part of letting go of control. You said you liked being told what to do because you don’t have to care, you’re not afraid of screwing up. The punishment is there for when you make a mistake, it takes the responsibility of the mistake off of you. I punish you and then it’s gone like it never happened. No consequences. In this sense, the scene is much simpler than life."

He waits for Dean to nod before he continues.

"I want to take care of you, Dean. I want to take the control you’re giving up for me. But I can’t do that fully until you stop judging yourself."

Dean swallows and nods again with his eyes shut. He understands, but he still feels stupid.

Castiel pulls him closer and kisses his temples, this time Dean returns the hug.

"I can’t believe I cried over a broken cup," he would laugh at himself, weren’t he so tired.

"Subbing is extremely physically and mentally straining. It’s understandable that an unexpected complication caused a minor breakdown.”

Dean sighs and looks Cas in the eyes, the blue calming him. "You’re so good to me."

"No, Dean, you’re good to me. I’m just trying to give you what you deserve."

Dean doesn’t respond, but he lets Cas kiss him, sweet and slow.

They lay facing each other, limbs intertwined, the only light coming through the open door from the living room.

Dean replays the whole scene in his head. He did well. It was the fault of the damned cup, not his. He was going to make it even when Cas kicked up the vibrations.

"Do you feel better?" Cas asks, running his hand through the sweaty strands of Dean’s hair.

"Do you want to eat something? Or get a shower?"

Dean thinks about it. Both options sound great but they involve losing physical contact with Cas if only for a moment and Dean still feels like Castiel’s touch is the only thing holding him together.

"No, I’m fine like this."

Cas hums and kisses the top of his head.

"Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?"

Dean hesitates. "Could you... can we maybe... have sex without-"

"Games?"

"Yeah."

Dean feels Cas’ smile more than he sees it.

"Of course, Dean."

They kiss, lazily, like they’re not trying to get anywhere. Cas pulls his shirt over his head and Dean tries to touch every inch of hot skin like he could draw strength from it.

"Turn around," Cas whispers.

Dean turns his back to Cas and shifts closer as Castiel’s arms wrap around him, the curve of his body perfectly fitting against Castiel’s.

He’s still slick and loose, so Castiel enters him with ease, peppering his shoulders with tender kisses.

Dean hums contently, reaching for Castiel’s arms. He finds his hand and their fingers intertwine.

Cas rolls his hips ever so slightly and the drag of skin against skin is delirious.

"You feel like heaven," Cas whispers, voice thick with fondness.

It’s so different from any experience Dean has with sex. It doesn’t ignite sparks inside him, doesn’t turn him wide and desperate for more. The way Cas envelopes him with his warmth, how they’re connected in the most intimate way, it makes Dean content, it calms his nerves and leaves him sated.

Castiel’s hand slides down Dean’s thigh and guides him to bend his knee which makes it possible for Cas to get deeper. So deep that Dean gasps.

It’s hard to tell when one of them ends and the other begins, they are so tightly wrapped together, rocking languidly, whispering sweet nonsense and breathing heavily.

The pleasure builds so slowly and steadily, that when Dean comes, it doesn’t feel like falling over the edge. It’s more like spreading his wings and gliding on the waves of pleasure.

The warmth and wetness of Castiel’s orgasm flooding him is an entirely new sensation and it makes Dean moan with a renewed surge of arousal.

With a sated smile on his lips, he drifts off before Castiel even pulls out.

 


	8. The Sign of Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I´m sorry this one took so long but it was the firs chapter didn´t just edit but I had to actually finish it and that turned out to be a bit of a struggle. I hope it was worth it though :)

"Oh shit!"

Dean wakes with a start and looks sleepily around. The room is still dark, but the sky outside is turning from black to blue. His eyes finally focus on Castiel, sitting on the bed beside him with an alarmed expression.

"God no, fuck."

"What’s going on?" Dean asks, voice husky, his stomach twisting with worry.

"Dean! I’m so sorry. I don’t get how I... I’m so stupid."

Dean rubs the sleep out of his eyes and props himself on one elbow.

"Please calm down and tell me what happened."

Castiel takes a steadying breath. "I didn’t use a condom."

Air escapes Dean’s lungs in a harsh huff and he drops back on the mattress.

"And that’s why you’re freaking out?"

Castiel blinks at him, lips slightly parted. With the disaster that is his hair and his face still being flushed from sleep, he makes a really cute sight.

"You’re not mad?"

Dean yawns loudly and folds his arms under his head.

"Why? It ain’t like I can get pregnant. And we’re both clean." He frowns, hesitating. "Aren’t we?"

"No! I mean yes, I’m clean but... but we should’ve discussed it. I should’ve asked."

"Yeah, you should have. I would’ve said yes. So everything is alright. Now go back to sleep."

He closes his eyes and holds his arm up in an invitation for Cas to cuddle to his side. When Cas doesn’t move, Dean lets the arm fall and opens his eyes again.

Castiel is staring at his palms, back hunched, looking miserable. Dean reaches out to rub the small of his back.

"Cas?"

He shakes his head, answering a question Dean didn’t ask.

"This is wrong," he sighs.

"What is?" Dean feels a surge of panic, it’s strange to see Cas - always so calm and stoic- like this. He doesn’t know what to do.

"This. Me. I’m making mistakes."

Dean shifts closer and sits up so he can nuzzle at Cas’ shoulder.

"Come on, Cas, nothing really happened."

Castiel looks at him, his eyes are fierce, like those of a scared animal.

"But it could have! It might next time! What we are doing... I can hurt you, Dean!"

Dean stares at him, his heart is beating too hard, but this time he’s not scared.

"You won’t," he says, the sternness of his tone startling Cas a bit.

"I know you won’t hurt me." Dean clenches his teeth, finding strength to continue.

"I’ve been hurt before. By people I loved, by people who loved me. I was hurt purposefully and accidently. And I know you won’t hurt me. I trust you."

Castiel opens and shuts his mouth like a fish, then he runs his hand over his face and sighs. When he speaks again, he’s not looking at Dean.

"I’m sorry, Dean. I’m just not sure we should continue this."

It’s like a punch to the gut.

"No," Dean breathes, "don’t."

Cas’ eyes connect with his and there’s deep sadness in them which only makes everything worse.

"You make me lose control," Castiel says it like a huge secret like he’s opening the darkest corner of his heart for Dean to see. He seems scared by his own words.

And Dean feels like laughing.

"Yeah, you know what? You can’t control everything!" His hands clench in fists on their own volition. He’s angry, ready to fight, not willing to give up.

"Sometimes you have to let go! And it’s scary! I fucking know it’s scary because I’m scared shitless!

I’m scared of your games, I’m scared of relationships, hell I’m scared of being gay. But I finally decided to roll with it and I’m not letting you back off. Because yeah it feels like falling, but maybe it’s flying and I’m ready to find out."

Castiel takes a breath to say something, but Dean cuts him off by shaking his head.

"You can’t safeword out of a relationship when things get too intense or not according to a plan."

Castiel closes his eyes and gives a small nod, but Dean’s not sure he’s convinced.

"Now let’s go back to sleep. It’s like 4 in the morning."

He lies down and this time he drags Cas down with him.

They snuggle close, Cas being the small spoon - he doesn’t have another choice because Dean wraps himself around him like a greedy octopus.

When he feels the man relax in his arms, he kisses the soft spot behind his ear.

"By the way, I loved how it felt. I vote for not using rubber ever again."

He feels Castiel’s smile more than he sees it. He hugs him tighter and shuts his eyes.

 

"Oh no."

"Not again!" Dean grunts, hiding his head under a pillow.

"I have to be at work in twenty," a grumpy voice answers him and the mattress rocks as Cas crawls out of (the) bed.

"Just call in sick," Dean suggest.

"I can’t."

Groaning, Dean sits up and looks at Castiel jumping on one leg as he’s trying to get in his slacks.

"I hate mornings," Dean murmurs.

"You can stay," Cas says, finally finding stability and tugging the pants up his narrow hips. Dean thinks about those hips under his palms and he hates this morning and Castiel’s job a bit more.

"What?" he blurts out as Castiel’s words finally register in his sleepy mind.

"You don’t have to get up. Stay. I’ll give you spare keys."

As Dean stares after him, Cas disappears to the living room and comes back clinking with a bunch of keys.

"You sure?" Dean asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, why not?" He drops the keys on the bed and grabs a white shirt from the closet.

"What if I rummage through all your drawers?"

"Then tell me if you find something you’d like to try," Cas answers, buttoning up the shirt in front of a mirror. Dean watches him, stomach churning for a reason he doesn’t understand.

Cas comes closer and leans down to kiss him on the lips. It’s chaste and strangely intimate at the same time. Domestic.

"Take care," Cas whispers with a smile that sparks pleasure in a way that has nothing to do with sex.

"Have a nice day." Dean pulls him down for another kiss.

He falls back on the mattress and huddles into the covers that smell like Cas and sex. With a soft smile on his lips, he listens to the sounds of Cas leaving the house ending with a loud thud of the door.  

 

Castiel arrives at his office 5 minutes late and of course, he runs straight into Mr. Adler.

"Good morning, Castiel, do you know what time it is?"

"I’m sorry, Mr. Adler," Cas pants. "I had a problem with my car."

"Make sure it doesn’t happen again," Cas’ boss says with a threat hidden under benevolent tone.

"Yes sir," Cas tries not to growl.

He slams the door shut behind Zachariah’s back and flops into his chair. With a deep sigh, he runs his hand through his hair, thinking of how better it would be to spend the morning in a warm bed with Dean by his side.

The thought of Dean makes him smile and a flock of butterflies flap their wings in Cas’ stomach as he recalls the conversation they had in the wee hours of the morning.

Humming a song under his breath he reaches for the stack of papers on his desk.

 

Dean doesn’t stay in bed for too long, it’s not as good on his own.

He goes to the bathroom and uses the spare toothbrush Cas gave him last weekend, then he takes a long shower, washing the remnants of tiredness and stiffness off his body. He uses Cas’ shampoo, feeling a thrill of doing something forbidden, liking the fact that it will make him smell like his lover.

He walks around Cas’ apartment naked and wishes Cas could see him. He drinks coffee that Cas has made before he left and eats a bowl of cereal.

He doesn’t sniff through Cas’ drawers, but he takes a good look at the photos and pictures on the walls and studies the content of the numerous bookshelves in an attempt to learn what Castiel likes.

He’s a bit shaky when he’s locking the door of his boyfriend’s apartment, but he’s wearing a bright grin on his face.

On his way to the shop, he’s humming a melody he heard god-knows-where. His phone rings and when he sees the caller ID, his smile fades.

"Hey, Sam."

"Dean! You’re alive."

"Why wouldn’t I be?" Dean chuckles nervously.

"I haven’t heard from you for ages, jerk."

"Bitch, I was busy."

"What with?"

Dean’s stomach twists. "Running a shop? Earning money?"

"Oh come on, you could’ve found a minute to call your brother. What if something happened to me?"

"What would happen to you? I bet you spend all your time with your nose buried in a book."

Sam huffs, making the line rattle. "Not all the time, you know? I’m seeing someone."

A fond smile spreads on Dean’s face. "Seeing as in stalking her because you don’t have balls to ask her out?"

"No! Seeing as in... we spend time together."

"If it’s in a library over a textbook, it doesn’t count as dating, Sammy."

Another exasperated huff, then a sigh. "Okay, but I’m gonna ask her out soon."

"Good luck, bro."

"Thanks. What about you?"

Dean almost stammers in his step. "What about me?"

"Where are you? Aren’t you suppose to be in the shop?"

"Yeah, I’m on my way right now."

"You’re _walking?_ " He says it like Dean never takes a step in his life. Which isn’t true. But it’s not usual for him to walk to the shop.

"I spent the night nearby." The moment the words are out of his mouth he regrets them.

"Oh, of course. Something serious or just one of your usual hook-ups?"

Dean chews his lip. There’s nothing usual about his relationship with Cas. But is it serious? He doesn’t know, he’s not even sure if he can do serious, he just knows he wants to try. That’s what he told Cas, but if he tells Sam, he’ll keep asking questions and Dean’ll have to spill everything out or lie and he doesn’t want to do either.

"I don’t know." He says eventually.

There’s a stunned silence on the other end of the line.

"What do you mean you don’t know? Do you like her? Are you seeing her again?"

"Don’t you want to mind your own business?" he bursts out harsher than he intended.

For a moment Dean thinks Sam has hung up, but then he hears his voice and can vividly imagine the puppy eyes that accompany it.

"Alright, Dean. I was just curious because I care about you and I wanna know what’s happening in your life."

Dean sighs. He hates when Sam uses this chick flick speech on him, but he’s not immune to it.

"I know. Sorry. I just don’t want to talk about it now."

"Fine, but you know that you can call me anytime, right? When you decide you want to talk."

"Yeah." Dean stops in front of the shop and fishes for his keys.

"I have to go, Sam. Good luck with that girl of yours."

"Thanks. And Dean?"

Dean closes his eyes, bracing himself. "Yeah?"

"Whoever she is and whatever you do with her, I hope it makes you happy."

Dean huffs out a mirthless laugh. "Yeah, you bet. Bye, bitch."

"Bye, jerk."

He leans his forehead against the door and takes a deep breath.

He feels like shit.

Sam is kind and caring and open-minded. He deserves Dean being honest with him. And Cas deserves better than being Dean’s dirty little secret.

But Dean can’t tell Sam he’s with a guy, even if he wanted to, the words just get stuck in his throat. Whenever Sam said _she_ it made Dean physically flinch and he wanted to correct him. It would have been so easy. But he couldn’t.

He swears under his breath and finally unlocks the door.

 

Castiel startles as he hears a knock on the doorframe. He looks up to see a petite brunette with a Cheshire grin.

"Hello, Clarence."

Cas lets out a breath and relaxes a bit.

"Meg, what are you doing here?"

"I came to drag you out of this cave of yours and take you out for lunch."

"I have too much work," he frowns.

"Yes I know and if I don’t take care of you, you won’t eat. So move your ass and let’s go."

Castiel rolls his eyes, but shuts the folder in front of him and obediently follows Meg out of the office building and into the nice bistro across the street.

"You didn’t come just to make sure I eat," he says over a mouthful of chicken sandwich.

Meg continues slurping her milkshake for a moment.

"Well, I naively expected you to tell me if your loverboy came back to you or not. Then I realized I would be waiting for the rest of eternity and came to see for myself."

Cas averts his eyes guiltily. He was being a shitty friend calling her when he needed help and then not even letting her know how things had worked out.

 "Oh, I’m sorry, I was-"

"Busy fucking the sweet boy of yours," she finishes for him with a sly smile. Cas huffs out a laughter, wondering how it’s possible that even though he’s a grown man and a sex worker, she still manages to make him blush.

"So he stopped freaking out?" she asks, a bit more serious now.

Castiel nods. "It’s all still very new to him, but he’s willing to learn and he’s a natural. And he’s definitely worth the patience. Meg if you just saw him, he’s perfect. He surprises me all the time-" he trails off, realizing that he’s been rambling like an excited child. He looks at Meg who’s staring at him with hard eyes, lips pressed into a tight line, arms crossed on her chest.

"What?" he asks.

"You’re falling for him." She says it like it’s a death sentence.

Castiel fails deciphering all the emotions that surge in his chest and just looks away, silent.

"For fuck’s sake, Castiel," she sighs like he’s a lost case.

"What?" he barks. "What’s wrong with feelings?"

She makes an exasperated face and leans over the table.

"You don’t do feelings, Castiel."

It hurts. It hurts because it’s true. He doesn’t do feelings and he has a good reason for it. And he was content this way until he met Dean.

"Maybe it’s time to change that," he mutters, not able to meet her eyes.

She sighs and leans back in her chair.

"You know I only want the best for you, Clarence. And if it’s a relationship that you want or hell even  an apple pie life with white picket fence and two and a half adopted kids, then go for it."

"Meg I-"

She shuts him up with a glare that would make a weaker person piss their pants.

"Just let me remind you that last time you _did feelings_ it almost killed you. And I’m not sure this time I’ll be able to pull you out of it."

He opens his mouth to protest. To tell her that Dean is different. That it doesn’t have to end like last time. That he grew up and changed and deserves a second chance.

But all that comes out of his chest is a resigned sigh. He’s not certain about all these things himself, how can he convince her?

Meg reaches over the table and pats his hand, her expression soft.

"Just be careful, okay? And tell Dean that if he hurts you, no one is ever going to find his body."

Cas laughs and throws a piece of lettuce at her.

The rest of the lunch is in a lightened atmosphere, but deep down Cas can’t stop thinking about her words.

He’d love to be able to say he’s not scared. That he trusts Dean, or that he isn’t in too deep to get hurt so badly. But he can’t be sure. He turns the events of the morning over and over in his head thinking of how he panicked, how quickly he got up to end the relations because of a stupid mistake. So maybe he is scared. Not only scared that he’ll hurt Dean, but that he’ll get hurt again. And Meg is right, he probably wouldn’t be able to get himself together this time.

He doesn’t do feelings because feelings are messy and uncontrollable. He made his little nest of rules and regulations that make him feel safe and he was alright.

And then came Dean. Dean so soft and insecure, so strong and bright. There’s something about him that just urges Cas to feel. Like there’s this flame inside him that demands being fed with feelings and Cas can’t refuse it, he wants to bask in its warmth so he’s willing to feed it his own heart.

When he thinks about it this way, he sees why Meg’s so concerned about him. His end is inevitable.

On the other hand, there are Dean’s words playing on repeat in his head. Telling him that it’s okay to be scared. That sometimes you have to let go of control.

 

Even when he meets with Dean later that day, he’s still too deep in his thoughts to notice that something is off with Dean. They eat mostly in silence, split the bill and move to a club where Castiel’s friend Gabriel tends the bar. Neither of them is aware of the cold wall growing between them.

"Cassie! You finally came to see me!" Gabriel calls excitedly when they sit at the counter. He’s been bugging Cas about coming for months, but Cas isn’t a clubbing type. But when he thought about a place to go for a date with Dean, The Trickster came to his mind and he has to admit the place is much more decent than what he expected from Gabriel’s workplace.

"Oh and look at the eye candy! He’s here with you?" Gabe says, leaning over the bar counter to wink at Dean.

"Gabe, this is Dean. Dean, this is my friend Gabriel."

Dean raises a hand and waves. "Hi."

"Oh hello, nice to meet you. What can I do for you?" he asks suggestively, wiggling his eyebrow.

Dean huffs out a breath and asks for a whiskey. Gabe hands it to him and pours Cas some cranberry juice without asking.

Dean knocks the drink back and excuses himself. Gabe looks after him as he pushes his way through the crowd towards the bathrooms.

"So, you and Dean are?-" Gabe asks the moment they lose the sight of him.

Cas’ eyes snap up to him. "What?"

"Dean. Is he a friend? Boyfriend? Fuck buddy? I can’t tell by the way you two are around each other."

Castiel frowns. "He’s my boyfriend," he says, but the word tastes weird on his tongue.

"Oh," is all Gabe says before he starts to clean a glass.

"What is it Gabe?" he starts to get a bit annoyed by his friends commenting on his relationship with Dean.

"Nothing. I just hope you make up soon, he’s cute."

Castiel’s frown deepens, he shakes his head, confused.

"Make up? We didn’t have a fight."

Gabriel’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

"No? Then why are you like two ice cubes?"

Castiel bites his lips, replaying the night in his head. Gabe is right, they've barely exchanged a few words.

He looks in the direction Dean disappeared to and sees him coming back. Gabriel is talking with a young blond woman, making a lame joke about sex on the beach. Cas places his hand on Dean’s knee and feels relief when he doesn’t flinch.

"I need some fresh air. Come with me?" he asks, taking Dean’s hand. Dean nods and follows him out.

The music from the club is muffled out there and the sign above the door casts a soft blue glow into the alley.

Cas leads Dean a few steps down the street, then he pushes him against the wall and presses their lips together. His heart swells when he feels the corners of Dean’s mouth curl up into a smile.

"What’s wrong?" he asks softly when they part, stroking Dean’s jaw with his thumb.

Dean’s expression darkens and he drops his eyes to his feet.

"Sorry, I just feel a bit off."

"It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize, just tell me what’s bothering you."

Dean sighs and slumps against the wall.

"It’s stupid."

"I bet it’s not."

Dean’s eyes find his and Cas holds them, smiling encouragingly.

"Sam called." Dean makes it sound like these two words don’t need any explanation, but Cas raises an eyebrow questioningly.

"He was asking and I... I wasn’t able to tell him if we’re serious or not." He snorts and shakes his head, angry with himself.

"Hell, I didn’t even correct him when he thought you were a girl."

Castiel smiles fondly and grabs Dean’s shoulders, squeezing a little.

"Dean, there’s no reason to beat yourself over that."

Dean frowns and tries to shake his hands off, but it’s hard with the wall behind him.

"Yes, it is. Because he deserves the truth. And you..." he cuts himself off by biting down on his lip.

Castiel tilts his head. "And me?"

"You’re more than a dirty little secret, okay? And I’m planning on keeping you for a while so I should be able to talk about you with my brother."

 A wide grin spreads on Cas’ lips and he leans in to press a kiss to Dean’s neck.

"Thank you, Dean," he murmurs, dragging his lips along Dean’s jawline, enjoying the scratch of his stubble.

Dean huffs out a laugh and squeezes Castiel’s hips.

Castiel pulls away to look into his eyes. "It’s still pretty new. I’m sure you’ll tell Sam when the right time comes."

Dean smiles crookedly and ruffles Cas’ hair. "Your fatalism is ridiculous, but I’m going with it now."

Castiel chuckles and nips at Dean’s lip, eliciting a low growl from the taller man.

He feels much better now, with no barrier of unspoken thoughts between them.

"Your turn," Dean says and Cas blinks at him in surprise.

"What?"

"Tell me what’s bothering you."

A claw of anxiety squeezes Cas’ heart, he clenches his teeth. "Nothing."

"Come on, Cas. I’m not the only one who’s been sulking the whole night."

"I’m sorry about that," Castiel says on an exhale, running his hand through his hair. "But it’s nothing you should worry about. I just met with Meg and I was thinking about what she told me."

Dean frowns at the mention of Meg. "What did she tell you?"

Shaking his head, Cas takes a step back. "Really it’s nothing, Dean. I’m not letting it ruin our night anymore."

He heads in the direction of the parking lot, but Dean grabs his shoulder and turns him around.

"I’m not buying that, Cas. Tell me what she said."

"I don’t want to talk about it," Castiel growls, shaking Dean’s hand off. The air is simmering with the tension between them.

"I don’t care, Cas. This isn’t fair. You always make me spill my guts even though I don’t want to. So now you’re going to tell me what’s wrong with you."

"No."

Before he can turn away, he’s slammed against the wall. He gasps as Dean pushes his knee between his and places his hands on his shoulders, pinning him in place.

"Stop!" he growls angrily. Dean flinches minutely, but he doesn’t back off.

"We’re not in a scene, you’re not telling me what to do."

Cas stares at him. They’re both breathing fast, their chests brushing against each other.

Dean has been so pliant, so obedient, that Cas is taken aback by this display of defiance. It only makes him realize how strong a personality Dean is. It makes him _feel_ more for the man.

With the thought, he feels a lump forming in his throat and he sags a little, closing his eyes.

Dean’s grip loosens so it’s not painful anymore, but it’s still firm enough not to let Cas fall.

"She’s worried about me," Castiel says.

"Why?" Dean’s voice is suddenly so soft it makes something in Cas flutter. He opens his eyes to see the freckles on the bridge of Dean’s nose and the strange glow that his eyes get in the light of street lamps.

"Because..." _I’m falling for you._ The words refuse to get past his lips. He heaves a breath and finds a way around them.

"Because I got hurt before."

There’s a flare of anger in Dean’s eyes. Cas’ first thought is that he’s angry at Meg’s accusation that he might hurt Cas too. But then Dean’s hands slide down Castiel’s arms and Cas realizes his anger is protective. He’s angry at whoever hurt Cas even without knowing the story.

"You know what I just realized?" Dean says taking a step back, he’s trying to sound lighthearted, but to not much avail.

"It’s your turn to tell me about yourself. You know the whole sob story. How you lost your virginity, how you decided to take the most boring job ever, how you ended up spanking people for money."

Despite himself, Castiel smiles and squeezes Dean’s hand that has slid into his.

"I guess I owe you that," he sighs.

"Yes. You do."

"Do we really need to do it tonight?"

Nodding, Dean leads him to where they parked the Impala.

"I’m going to drive and you’re going to talk."

Castiel stiffens, but he keeps walking. "Drive where?"

"I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Just a nice long drive through the night. It will help, you’ll see."

Cas comes to a halt, tugging at Dean’s hand. Dean stops and looks at him with raised eyebrow.

"You’ve been drinking," Cas protests.

"I’m fine. I can drive."

"We have to go to work tomorrow."

"You can call in sick."

Castiel shakes his head. "It’s nonsense, Dean. Let’s just go home."

Dean purses his lips and it’s so adorable it would probably be enough to break Castiel’s resolution, but he tops it with stepping into Cas’ personal space and holding both his hands, fingers gently playing with Castiel’s.

"Come on. Don’t be like that. Let’s do something spontaneous. It’s worth a few hours of sleep."

Cas sighs, breathing in Dean’s scent. He’s quite sure there’s nothing in the world he could refuse the man right now.

"Alright."

The grin Dean shoots him before he starts running towards the car, dragging Cas with him, is definitely worth a terrible morning.

 

"Tell me again why do we have to do this in a car?" Cas asks as Dean pulls out.

"Because it’s soothing. Aimless driving always calms me. And that’s what we both need."

Cas shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "I don’t think it’s gonna work for me."

Dean looks at him, his green eyes uncharacteristically serious. "Just give it a shot."

Cas sighs and tries to relax into the leather of the seat. He stares out of the window as Dean drives out of the city and then it’s just the two of them and an endless road. Dean hasn’t turned on the radio, it’s silent except of the purr of the engine that Castiel finds quite pleasant. The silence isn’t expectant, Dean isn’t pressuring him to talk, he’s just giving him space. And it works because suddenly Cas feels a need to fill the space with words. He doesn’t know where to start though and tries to rehearse it in his head. Eventually, he gives up and just forces himself to break the silence.

"College was the first time in my life when I had some semblance of freedom."

Dean doesn’t react, but it’s visible on his face that he’s paying attention. Castiel turns to look out of the window and continues. "And I surely tried to make the best out of every minute I wasn’t under my parents’ influence." He closes his eyes and tries to picture himself in his freshmen year like it’s somebody else. " I got my ears pierced and dyed my hair blue, I didn’t miss a single party, I drank and smoked weed and as soon as I realized I was into guys I made it my mission to fuck as many of them as I could, no feelings involved. My parents didn’t know about any of it because I had chosen a college as far away from home as possible. They thought I was still their obedient devout boy so they kept sending me money. A lot of money. They wanted me to be able to afford good studying conditions. Of course, they had no clue that most nights I slept on the floor of a stranger’s room high out of my mind." He doesn’t look at Dean, doesn’t need to see the judgment on his face. He just needs to get over with revealing his past so Dean can ditch him.

"Then I met Bartholomew and I fell in love as hard and fast as I used to do everything. He was amazing, attentive and caring. He made me feel... worthy, which was something I wasn’t used to from home. I was so blinded by his affection that I didn’t realize what he was actually doing." He takes a deep breath to brace himself for the rest of the story. "First, he cut off all my friends and he got really jealous when I talked to any other man. His angry fits were as fierce as his displays of love and I tried to avoid them at any cost. That eventually led to him controlling all aspects of my life including my bank account." He squeezes his eyes shut tighter to keep the tears that are threatening to spill at bay. His voice sounds strangled when he continues. "I guess I was so used to be under my parents’ command that it felt natural to be under his. But with him it was different. My parents were strict, they had many rules that might have been stupid but they were clear and unchanging. Bartholomew praised me for the same thing one day and reprimanded me the other. I lived in constant fear of disappointing him."

"Jesus," Dean breathes out. It makes Cas open his eyes. He sees Dean’s hands holding the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white.

"Then one day I found him in bed with someone else. And you know what I did? I begged him to stay with me."

"Cas-" Dean reaches his hand to touch Cas’ knee but Cas shifts away. Dean curls his hand into a fist and lets it fall into his own lap.

"He stayed but became even harder to handle. After a few months of constant fights, he told me I was the biggest mistake of his life and left."

He’s shaking so hard he has to stop for a moment and just breath to get it under control. He lets the darkness outside soothe him.

"It broke me. And I really mean hitting rock bottom. I gave up on my life, I would have ended it but I was scared that my parents’ teachings were right and I would end up in hell. Stupidly enough it didn’t stop me from ruining myself with drugs. Prescription drugs mostly." He feels his cheeks turning hot with shame. "I was all alone. All my friends were gone. At some point, I told my parents everything and they disowned me as expected. Then Meg reappeared. She dragged my sorry ass to rehab. She was by my side when I was getting myself under control. She helped me get back to college and change my major. Together we started experimenting with BDSM. It helped me focus on myself, to understand myself and who I am on my own."

This time the silence is buzzing uncomfortably. Castiel feels vulnerable, raw.

"Say something."

"You didn’t tell me you were a junkie," Dean says not looking at him. He sounds cold and angry. Cas’ jarred nerves can’t bear that so he snaps back.

"Why? Am I not good enough for you now when you know I’m just like your father, maybe even worse?"

"What the fuck!" Dean yells hitting the wheel. The car swerves. Dean swears again under his breath and slows down.

"You lied to me! You said you didn’t drink because it makes you lose control."

"That’s right. When I’m out of control I could slip and use again."

Dean pulls off to the side of the road and stops the car.

"You should have told me!"

"I don’t have to tell you anything," Cas growls and gets out of the car. The cold air makes him shiver. He feels awful, he feels worse than in a long time, his fingers itch with a craving for the first time in years. He’s determined to go down the road, wherever it leads, just far away from the car, from Dean, from his past. He only manages to take a few steps before Dean grabs his arm.

"Let go!" Castiel yells, trying to wrench himself free.

"No! I’m not letting go of you!" Dean says it with such a conviction that it makes Cas stop. He looks Dean in the face and whatever he was expecting to see it’s not there. Dean’s face is soft, concerned.

"Look, I’m not judging you, Cas. _I’m not!_ " he stresses out before Cas can open his mouth to protest. "I just wish you would have told me earlier so I could have been more careful with you."

"I don’t need that!" Cas barks out and finally breaks free.

"Yes, you do!"

This time Dean uses both his hands to get hold of him and throws him against the hood of the car, pressing himself against him to keep him in place. The force of it takes Castiel aback so much that instead of fighting back he just lets out an exasperated breath. The only sign of defiance are his hands braced on Dean’s chest so he can push him away, but he doesn’t do so yet. He feels Dean’s heart pounding wildly under his palms and knows that his own heart is matching the pace.

"Castiel." The way he says it makes Cas feel a bit of the anger drain off. He closes his eyes, his muscles relax a little.

"You have issues, okay. Everybody has some. But you don’t need to deal with them alone."

"It has worked perfectly well for me until now," Cas growls.

Dean sighs and bows his head. Cas can feel his hot breath on his neck.

"I just... I just need to know where your wounds are so I don’t poke them accidentally."

"You don’t have to take care of me." He pushes against Dean’s chest but not hard enough. Dean is a few inches taller and made of muscles after all.

"Yes, I do!" Dean presses himself closer, his knee slips between Castiel’s legs. "You might be my Dom but it doesn’t mean I’m not supposed to take care of you. As your sub and especially as your _boyfriend_." Castiel swallows. He’s not looking Dean in the face, he’s afraid he wouldn’t stand the intensity of his eyes, his voice is enough.

"For this- the two of us- to work we have to be equal. And we’re not equal if you make me open myself up to you but don’t share anything about yourself in return."

Cas twitches but Dean wraps his arms around him and talks right into Cas’ ear softly. "So please, don’t regret telling me. I’m glad you did. And I- I wish I could tear that painful part of your story off, but I can’t." At first, Cas thinks it’s him shaking but then he realizes it’s Dean. "But I’m going to take it as a part of you and I’m going to work around it. Same as you do with what I told you about myself."

Castiel heaves a breath and buries his face in Dean’s chest. Only then he realizes there are tears running down his cheeks. He lets them flow. "I’m sorry, I never- I never told anyone, I-"

"Shh, it’s okay. It’s not easy, I know. Shhh." Dean holds him closer and pats his hair softly.

"I didn’t want you to know how fucked up I was."

"Fucked up?" Dean pulls away so he can look Cas in the eyes. "No, you’re not. All I learned from your story is that you are even stronger than I thought. It only made me feel more respect for you."

"Dean," Cas sobs. Dean leans down and kisses his salty lips. Castiel melts into it.

He thinks he’s never been kissed like this. There’s everything in it. Everything Dean said and all the things words can’t express. He puts all his feelings for Dean into the kiss too. He’s not scared of them anymore.

When he feels Dean’s body respond to the intensity of the kiss he switches them so it’s Dean trapped between him and the car.

They grind against each other like horny teenagers, their lips parting only to catch a breath and let out soft moans. It’s not enough to release the fire trapped inside them though so after a few minutes of desperate groping Cas drops to his knees, dragging Dean’s pants down.

He blows him sloppily, more passion than finesse and he revels in the way it makes Dean’s thighs tremble and his hands clench in Cas’ hair. After Dean comes he pulls Cas up for a kiss and moans as he licks his own taste out of Cas’ mouth. He pushes his hand into Cas’ pants and gets him off with a few hard strokes.

They cool off hugging each other.

"Can I drive?" Cas asks, lips brushing against the shell of Dean’s ear.

"I never let anyone drive."

"Will you let _me_ drive?"

Dean pushes him away, but he heads towards the passenger seat.

 

"I didn’t let you behind the wheel so you could drive like a granny."

"I’m just driving safe."

"Fuck that, Cas. The road is empty, enjoy yourself."

Castiel shoots him a look, but he tightens his grip on the wheel and steps on the gas. The engine roars, making both of them smile.

Dean studies Cas’ face, his eyes focused on the road, lips curled up in a soft pleased smile. Despite his reluctance, he’s enjoying the fast ride.

Dean tries to see him in a new light of what he revealed about himself, but all he can see is just his Cas. Although some things make more sense now when he knows the background. He’s still going to have to take his time to fully comprehend everything Cas shared with him, but for now, he’s just happy he did. He also wants to find Bartholomew and skin him alive for what he did to Cas.

By the time they arrive at Cas’ apartment Cas seems changed. Like a huge weight has dropped off his shoulders. He’s shining and Dean wants to bask in it. He feels that now that Cas has opened up to him, he has the chance to get closer to him emotionally and he has an urge to celebrate that by being closer to him physically.

„I thought we were going to bed,“ Cas chuckles when Dean wraps his arms around him the moment the door closes behind them. "You haven't had enough?"

"I want you inside me," Dean whispers against Castiel’s lips. Cas huffs out another laugh but his eyes darken with lust and he lets Dean get rid of his clothes. When Dean wiggles out of his own pants, Cas pushes him on the bed and using two wet fingers preps him expertly while kissing every part of him he can reach. He fucks him with deep hard thrusts and only makes him beg a little before he lets him come.

The next day he calls in sick.

 

 

 

 


	9. Edge of sensitivity

 

Castiel knew taking a day off would get him in trouble, but he didn’t expect Adler’s retribution to be that bad. He acts like the day Cas missed was the busiest day ever and that it will take Cas at least a week to make up for it. He throws everything that comes up Cas’ way and the added to Cas’ usual work the tasks keep piling up.

He doesn’t see Dean until the weekend because he has to stay late at work and when he comes home, he’s too tired and grumpy for anything. They call each other every day, though. One night Cas tells Dean to jerk off and send him a video, but he falls asleep before he can watch it.

 

Dean hates it, especially because he realizes how clingy he’s already become.

It’s raining on Saturday so they decide to stay at Cas’ place. For some time Dean’s content with just snuggling on the couch while Cas watches some documentary, but eventually, he gets bored.

Cas chuckles and slaps his ass playfully, when Dean nuzzles at his neck, his hands sliding under the hem of Cas’ shirt.

Dean huffs out a laugh, his breath tickling Cas, making him squirm and writhe under Dean’s larger body. They wrestle a bit chuckling and kissing, the TV long forgotten. Cas wraps his legs around Dean, which brings their crotches together, they gasp into each other’s mouth. Their kisses turn more heated as they lazily grind against each other.

Cas rakes his fingers through Dean’s hair, tugging lightly at the longer strands.

"Do you want to just fuck, or shall we play a bit?" he asks when Dean looks at him.

"Hmm," Dean purrs, rolling his hips again. "Will playing result in fucking?"

"Definitely," Cas sighs.

Dean pulls away, sitting up. He slaps his knees like an excited child. "So what are we up to?"

Chuckling at his eagerness Cas rolls off the couch. "Hmm, I have an idea. Take off your clothes."

Dean grins at him. "I like it when you say that."

 

His bravado leaves him quickly, as Cas returns from the bedroom with a long thin cane, smacking it into the palm of his hand as he talks. "Since you’re so afraid of getting punished, I have a game for you."

Dean doesn’t reply, eyes fixed on the cane.

Cas pulls a small hourglass out of his pocket. "Your task is to keep the cane on your stretched arms until the time runs out, no matter what I do to you. If you win, you have one wish that I’ll fulfill. If you lose, you’re gonna get spanked. Let’s say ten times since it’s your first time."

Dean bites his lip, his eyes finally let go of the cane and move to Cas’ face.

"With the cane?" he asks, trying hard to keep his voice from trembling.

Cas shakes his head. "You’re not ready for that. I’ll use my hand if you lose."

"Fine," Dean breathes out, but Cas must feel he’s uncertain, because he steps closer, placing his hand on the small of Dean’s back.

"You can say no, Dean."

"I know. I wanna try."

"Alright," Cas smiles kindly and kisses Dean’s cheek.

"Stretch your arms, palms down." Dean does what he’s told and Cas balances the cane on his fingers. The task doesn’t seem so difficult yet, but Dean knows there’s going to be a catch. He spreads his legs so he has a more stable stance.

Cas places the hourglass on the coffee table so Dean can see it and then he steps out of Dean’s field of vision. Afraid that he might lose balance if he turned his head, Dean keeps his eyes on the sand silently falling down.

Then he feels Cas come behind him, so close he’s almost touching him. He breathes on Dean’s neck, which makes goosebumps rise. Dean stiffens back a moan, he already wants to throw the cane away and just touch Cas.

Then Cas touches him, fingertips pressed at the base of Dean’s neck. He drags his nails down along Dean’s spine. Dean takes a deep breath, trying not to shiver, focusing on the cane.

Cas does it again, this time with more force, so it’s just the right side of painful. A low moan escapes Dean’s throat, the hair on his arms stands on the end and his cock starts to fill. Keeping his arms straight is already hard as hell.

 "You like that," Cas purrs, kneading the flesh of Dean’s ass. Dean grinds his teeth and tries to will the sand to fall faster.

He realizes Cas has dropped to his knees when he feels the dom’s nails on the inside of his thigh.

"Shit," he sighs as Cas drags his fingers down.

He shifts his weight which is a mistake because it makes space for Cas to reach between his legs and cup his balls.

He rolls them in his hand. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again as he feels the cane shift minutely.

He’s rock hard when Cas lets go of his balls and his attention moves to his ass. He runs his finger down the crease, gently brushing over his hole. Dean holds a breath. Cas grabs the globes of his ass and pushes them apart.

Dean flinches in surprise when something hot and wet touches his entrance. Cas presses his soft tongue against the puckered flesh and Dean almost misses the movement of the cane. He lifts his hands to stop it from rolling down, but it shifts to one side and with a clatter falls on the floor.

Dean lets out a heavy sigh, only now realizing that he doesn’t feel Cas’ hands on him anymore.

"What happened?" Cas asks. Dean turns to him. It’s weird to see his Dom on his knees in front of him, but it’s also really cute. Cas’ blue eyes are wide, his hair is a mess and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. The tongue that only a moment ago was on Dean’s...

Dean tears his eyes off him and looks back at the cane.

"I think I lost."

"You did, but I’m surprised by how."

Dean feels a blush creep up his neck and coloring his cheeks.

"Did I hurt you? Did something else startle you?"

"No, I... you just caught me by surprise."

Cas stands up and looks Dean in the eyes, it’s hard not to squirm under the scrutiny.

"Surprised?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Yes," Dean huffs. "I didn’t expect you to lick... down there."

Cas cocks his head and squints. "You don’t enjoy rimming?"

Then his eyes widen like he’s just been revealed the secret of the universe. "You’ve never gotten eaten out!"

Dean averts his eyes, his ears burning now.

"How?" Cas blurts out.

"I don’t know," Dean mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just, no one ever did that. Why would they? It’s weird."

Cas gives him an offended look.

"There’s nothing weird about it! It’s amazing."

Dean scrunches his nose. "I admit it might feel nice to me, but I have no idea why you’d want to do it."

Cas makes an exasperated noise, running a hand through his hair. Then he looks at Dean, eyes shining.

"You know what? Change of plan. You’re going to get rimmed. Right now." He grabs Dean’s hand and tugs at it, but Dean doesn’t move.

"What?"

"Unless you prefer spanking."

Dean shakes his head. "No, but... I don’t get why."

Cas steps closer, the warmth of his body reassuring.

When he speaks it’s in a hushed tone, soothing.

"Because I’m sure you’ll love it. Because I want to touch and taste _every_ inch of your body and show you how amazing it feels."

Dean swallows, a surge of arousal washing over him.

"But what about my punishment?" he asks, voice weak.

"Oh, I’ll think of something," Cas answers, already ushering him into the bedroom.

 

Dean sits on the edge of the bed while Cas rummages in his collection of toys and tools, muttering under his breath. The Dom’s excitement is so intoxicating, that it almost drowns Dean’s anxiety. Almost.

Cas crawls on the bed and sits behind Dean.

"I wanna rim you until you come," he announces, kissing Dean’s neck.

Dean looks at him, doubting that it will be as easy as Cas makes it sound, but deep down he knows he wants him to try.

"And to make it more fun, I’ll gag you and tie you down."

Dean’s heart skips a beat. Cas must notice something on his face because his own grin falters.

"You trust me, Dean, don’t you?"

Dean hurries to nod.

"I’d never do something bad to you. And you’ll be able to safeword, I’ll show you how."

"Okay," Dean breathes and lets Cas kiss him, the touch of his lips and tongue calming.

"This is the gag I’m gonna use." Cas shows him a small ball with leather straps.

"It’s breathable," he says, pointing at the holes in it. "So you don’t have to worry about that. I only want to disable you from speaking.

Dean nods, he’s nervous, but it mixes with excitement.

Castiel puts the ball into Dean’s mouth and fastens the straps. Dean tries to breathe through it, it’s a bit uncomfortable, but nothing terrible, at least the ball doesn’t have any aftertaste.

"You’re going to drool, don’t worry about it," Cas says returning to his place in front of Dean.

"Oh god," he gasps when he sees Dean. He runs a tip of a finger over Dean’s lips stretched around the gag. His eyes are wild and hungry, full of want. It makes Dean’s heart beat faster.

Cas touches gently the straps digging slightly into Dean’s cheeks, then he swallows and shakes himself out of the trance.

"Here," he mumbles, fumbling for something on the bed. It’s a small brass bell, he presses it into Dean’s palm.

"Ring and I’ll stop everything."

Dean nods his understanding.

"Good, now the restraints. Your hand."

Dean stretches one arm, Cas takes his hand and wraps a beautiful handcuff made of fine black leather with silver buckles around the wrist.

"Does it feel good?" Cas asks. Dean nods and gives him his other hand.

"They look beautiful on you," Cas sighs as he fastens the second cuff.

He puts similar restraints around Dean’s ankles, then orders him to lay on his belly.

He uses short chains to secure the cuffs to the bed posts, then lets Dean test how much he can move. He asks him to try to ring the bell he’s clenching in his hand.

Making sure that Dean still feels alright, Cas places a pillow under his hips, then ties his legs - one to each bedpost so they’re spread.

Tied down like this, Dean feels like he might start hyperventilating. His position is revealing and vulnerable and some primal instinct is telling him he should struggle and try to flee.

But then there are Cas’ warm hands on his shoulders, rubbing the tension away.

"You look wonderful like this, Dean," Cas whispers into his ear, straddling him.

"I want you to understand that I tied you down so you can’t shy away from the pleasure I’m going to bring you. I’m not going to hurt you."

Dean nods, cheek rubbing against the pillow under his head.

"But if anything feels wrong. Use the bell without hesitation, okay?"

Another nod, this time it earns him a kiss to his shoulder.

Castiel runs his hands all over Dean’s body, alternating between gentle touches of palms and scratching with his fingernails. There´s not an inch of Dean´s skin he doesn´t pay attention to, that he doesn´t worship.

After a few minutes, Dean feels like a life wire, his nerves buzzing, mind focused on even the smallest touch and his whole body reacting violently. All his fear is gone, all that’s left is craving more sensation and an endless trust in Castiel, that he’ll give it to him.

When he feels Castiel’s tongue run over the sensitive skin of his hole, he bites down on the gag and moans, totally unrestrained.

It’s new and unusual and it would make Dean squirm if he wasn’t held down.

It reminds Dean of the first time somebody touched him like this. How weird but awesome it felt to have somebody’s finger press into his hole.

But this is even better, soft and wet and so hot. With a second long swipe, Dean tries to relax into it. Pleasure spreads trough his body and his cock twitches.

Cas kneads the backs of Dean’s thighs and switches to small licks with the tip of his tongue, teasing the tight ring of muscle.

Dean huffs out little sounds of pleasure, feeling himself loosening under Cas’ ministrations.

Castiel licks and sucks, humming contently like Dean’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Then Castiel pushes the tip of his tongue _inside_ and it migh be the strangest and most intimate thing Dean has ever experienced. He yelps, the sound muffled by the gag. Castiel doesn´t stop, he works him wet and open with his tongue. Dean writhes, ignoring the cuffs digging into his skin. The movement makes his hard cock grind against the pillow under him, the friction making his eyes roll back into his head. With another strangled sound he rolls his hips again, pushing himself on Castiel’s face, then grinding down into the pillow.

Hot breath brushes over his wet hole as Cas chuckles and bites his ass teasingly.

Dean says his name around the gag, trying to make him continue. He wants more, he wants him to never stop.

Cas chuckles again, low and pleased, the sound having the same effect on Dean’s heart as Cas’ actions have on his cock.

Then Cas’ mouth is back on him and Dean loses himself in it.

He has no control over himself, doesn’t know if he’s making any sounds or movements. All that matters is the simmering pleasure.

He’s hanging on the precipice, burning from the inside, every second feels infinite.

And then it’s finally too much, stars burst under his lids and he comes, spilling into the pillow. Orgasm washes through him like a tidal wave leaving him breathless and trembling, shattered to pieces.

He starts to slowly come back to his senses when he hears a grunt and feels hot ropes of come falling on his ass.

He moans, knowing that his partner came like this, that bringing him pleasure is all Castiel needs, makes the moment even better. As if Castiel could read his mind and felt the need of contact, he leans over Dean and kisses his back and shoulders. His breath is labored and words slurred when he whispers praises. Dean basks in the afterglow, enjoying the gentle touches of Castiel’s hands that anchor him.

Cas’ hand finds the pools of cooling come and he drags his fingertips through the mess spreading it on Dean’s skin and towards his hole. Dean sighs when he feels the wetness against his rim and his breath hitches when Cas pushes it in. Cas does it again and again, marking Dean with his come from the inside. The thought makes Dean’s cheeks burn but it’s nothing against the fire ignited by Cas’ finger. Dean whines, biting on the gag, too sensitive to the touch. Cas doesn’t mind his protest, though, sliding his finger in and out Dean’s loosened hole. It’s not painful, not per se, but it’s just too much. A strange mixture of discomfort and pleasure.

After an agonizingly long moment, Cas adds a second finger, scissoring and twisting carefully before he pushes deep enough to brush over Dean’s prostate.

Dean cries out, this time aware of the leather rubbing his wrists raw. His body is too tired by the onslaught of sensation, his spent cock twitches weakly.

And Castiel doesn’t stop. He’s shushing him, whispering soothing words Dean doesn’t understand over his own sobs as every teasing touch to his prostate sends a bolt of pleasure and pain through his spine.

He wants it to stop because he’s sure he’s going to die. He knows about the hard brass in his palm, hot with his own warmth. The thought of using it dies when he realizes he’s hard again and if Cas stopped now, it wouldn’t really help to ease the strain.

He makes a sound that distantly resembles Castiel’s name.

Cas withdraws his fingers, three by now, leaving Dean empty, clenching around nothing.

Dean sobs, the loss of contact is definitely worse than being overwhelmed. He’s shaking, hating the restraints that keep him in this position, but too weak to struggle.

He calms down when a warm body drapes over him and he breathes in the familiar smell of Castiel. A gentle hand runs through his sweaty hair and his cheeks around the leather straps are kissed by chapped lips.

Dean lets out a sigh and shifts his body to get more contact with Castiel. The Dom is still fully clothed, the soft material of his shirt and sweats rubbing against Dean’s skin, bringing a new sensation.

Castiel’s hot lips suck marks into Dean’s neck, his arms slide under Dean’s body and wrap around his chest.

Dean realizes he’s being given a space to use the bell which only makes him more determined to let Cas continue. He squeezes the bell tighter and tries to calm his breath as he feels the slick head of Castiel’s cock press against his entrance.

An animalistic sound rips its way out of Dean’s mouth. Each inch stretching him wide and filling him, making him complete. Castiel answers with a guttural groan of his own as he pulls out and slams back in. 

He moves his hips in a hard rhythm, pounding Dean’s ass without mercy, holding onto him like he’s a lifeline.

Dean knows he’s taking from him, but the thought doesn’t make him feel used. He feels wanted, needed, the way Cas is holding him and each huff of breath that tickles his neck only amplify his own arousal.

He doesn’t try to move, just lets himself be fucked into the mattress, focusing only on breathing which gets harder with every thrust.

"Come for me, Dean," Cas begs rather than orders, his voice hoarse and breathless.

Dean makes a desperate sound. He’s close, but not close enough.

Cas’ hips stutter. He buries himself deep in Dean, his hips gyrating, cockhead pressing into Dean’s sweet spot.

"Please, baby, I know you can."

His hand slides down Dean’s chest and with a few quick strokes to his cock he wrenches a second orgasm out of Dean’s tortured body.

Dean screams into the silicone ball in his mouth, body spasming, inner muscles clenching around Cas, milking him as he lets go and comes too. He fucks his come deep into Dean, riding out his orgasm.

 

Dean doesn’t move, his limbs are heavy as if they’re made of lead. His heart is hammering against his breastbone and each breath is painful. He feels his blood rushing through his veins and pulsing in his groin. He’s sore and his muscles burn, but his mind is suddenly clear. His thoughts are reduced to "wow".

He feels Cas moving and then ankles are being unchained, followed by his wrists. The moment he’s free to move he rolls to his side and curls around Cas.

"I’ve got you. It’s okay, I’ve got you," he mumbles into Dean’s hair, wrapping him in a thigh embrace.

"Let me," he says, reaching for the buckle on the back of Dean’s head. Dean realizes he’s been making small sounds the moment Cas removes the gag. He swallows, his throat terribly dry.

He opens his eyes to see Cas. His pupils are still blown, but his expression is soft.

He wipes the spit from Dean’s chin and lips and kisses the half-dried tears Dean didn’t know where on his cheeks.

"How are you?"

Dean tries to answer, but can’t. Cas shushes him with a soft kiss to his lips and reaches for a bottle of water waiting on the bedside table. Dean drinks half of it, then watches Cas drink the other half.

To his surprise, Cas doesn’t repeat his question. He throws the filthy pillow on the floor, then starts to unbuckle the cuffs. Dean watches him as he sighs every time he sees the stripes of red skin.

When he’s done with both his hands and legs, he starts to get up.

"Don’t" Dean chokes out, grabbing the front of Cas’ t-shirt.

Castiel smiles at him softly and pats the back of his hand.

"I’m not going anywhere."

Dean reluctantly lets go of him but keeps his eyes on him as he reaches into the drawer and grabs a small tube.

He squeezes out a bit of milky cream and a strong herbal smell hits Dean’s nose.

Cas gently rubs the cream into the sore places on Dean’s wrists and ankles, then puts some into the corners of Dean’s mouth that when Dean thinks about it hurt quite a bit.

He tries to fight it when Cas makes him roll to his belly and puts some of the cream on his ass, but Cas shoots him a warning look that makes him stop.

Then finally, Cas drags a comforter over them and settles down with Dean in his arms.

They don’t talk, just cuddle lazily, Cas stroking Dean’s hair and rubbing his sore shoulders.

It takes Dean a few minutes to realize that he misses Cas’ voice, that there are no words of praise.

"You’re not talking. Is something wrong?" He looks up at Cas.

The anxiety curling in his gut dissipates when Cas, with his eyes closed and a soft smile on his lips, shakes his head.

"No, I just don’t have words. It was too good."

Dean’s heart flutters, a mirroring smile spreads on his lips. It’s nice to know he’s not the only one with his brains fucked out.

He’s still staring at Cas’ face when he squeezes him tighter and frowns.

"You’re shaking," he says. He’s right, but Dean hadn't noticed. Slight tremors are running through his body.

"I’m okay," he mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of Cas’ neck.

"You need to eat something."

"I don’t want to."

"Dean." It’s said in a tone that doesn’t allow any discussion so Dean just huffs and lets Cas disentwine from him. A minute later he’s handed a chocolate bar.

Cas watches him chew.

"So?"

Dean raises an eyebrow. "So?"

"How was it?" Cas blurts out.

Dean blushes and shoves the rest of the bar into his mouth so he doesn’t have to answer right away.

"Good," he says around the mouthful.

Castiel frowns and pouts a bit, it’s so cute Dean considers teasing him more, but he’s too tired. He decides it’ll be better to get over with the talking as quickly as possible.

"Intense," he adds, averting his eyes, fidgeting with the wrapper in his hand.

"Intimate. Like you can do whatever you want with every part of me and I can’t run away from it." He feels his heart pick up its pace. The feeling didn’t entirely burn out and it arises again as he’s talking about it.

"But you only use it to make me feel good," he continues, voice low almost like he’s taking to himself.

"And you take pleasure from making me feel good. And I like it too. To make you feel good."

He’s lost in thoughts. Replaying the scene in his head. All the sensations, the feeling of being overwhelmed, the way Cas brought him to his limits. And the all-encompassing trust he felt even when he thought he wasn’t going to make it, he trusted Cas.

He gives himself just a minute to probe at the feeling growing in his chest, then he looks at Cas and his heart stutters.

Cas is staring at him with parted lips and eyes so intense looking into them feels like looking into the sun. His lips move like he’s going to say something, but then he swallows it back. Instead, he grabs the back of Dean’s neck and pulls him into a kiss. It’s deep and heated with a hint of desperation. Somehow Dean knows there’s a meaning behind the kiss, but he’s too scared to think about it. He just wraps his arms around Cas’ shoulders and kisses him back until their lips are swollen and they’re gasping for breath.

They snuggle under the covers again and Dean finally lets the exhaustion take over (him). He doesn’t know that a long time after he falls asleep, Castiel is still staring at the ceiling.

 

Castiel almost said, "I love you".

It was on the tip of his tongue when Dean told him how he felt and then looked up at him with unsure eyes.

He had to silence himself with a kiss, but the words didn’t really disappear, they just transformed into the press of lips and swipes of tongue.

With Dean snoring softly into his shoulder, staring blindly at the ceiling of the darkening room, he’s trying to convince himself he’s not afraid of the three little words. But it’s a lie and he knows it. He knows how huge the words are, he knows how huge they felt when he said them last time. How amazing it felt to hear them and how it hurt when it was all lost.

But that was with Bartholomew, everything is different with Dean. It’s still so new, he can’t even tell if he really feels this way. Maybe it was just the rush from the sex. Maybe he was just too taken aback by the fact that Dean _feels_ everything Castiel does to him. He doesn’t just react to the sensual stimulation, he also recognizes the intentions behind it, the feelings. That’s something Cas thought they would have to work on for months, years even. Enjoying the sex is one thing, but it usually takes subs some time to understand what Castiel is actually doing with them. And Dean understands.

Dean is perfect, so good Castiel is scared that something must be about to ruin it every minute.

That’s why he didn’t say what his heart was telling him. It’s just too soon. It’s too soon for everything. And he’s tired. He came twice in record time because Dean was just so delicious he couldn’t keep his hands off of him.

Castiel has had a lot of good sex with different partners and he has always liked eating ass, but with Dean... The sounds he made, not holding back in the slightest, trusting that the gag would do it for him, those sounds will haunt Castiel for days and make him hard at inappropriate times. The way he squirmed and fucked himself on Castiel’s tongue, how his hole was fluttering under Castiel’s touch, it all makes Cas hard again just when he thinks about it. And what he looked like with his pretty lips stretched around the gag! Castiel should definitely put things into Dean’s mouth more often. And rim him like twice a day. He drifts off with a smile on his lips, thinking about all the things he wants to do with Dean.

 

Dean is sore the next day. He won’t admit it, but Cas can tell by the way he moves gingerly. Castiel doesn’t acknowledge it, though, not verbally. He has a feeling that Dean would react negatively, his ego would get hurt by Castiel’s attempt to take care of him. So he tries to do it sneakily. His intention is to draw Dean into a make out session and then make him lie down and allow Cas to treat him with a soothing lotion and maybe a massage because being bound for so long must have strained his muscles.

His plan is ruined the moment he touches him and Dean flinches away. It hurts. When Castiel looks in Dean’s face and sees his hollow expression, he realizes it’s exactly like the first time. Dean is withdrawing from Castiel, shutting himself off mentally and physically. It’s clear from the way he sits behind the table while Castiel prepares breakfast, his arms wrapped around himself like he’s trying to hide.

It makes Castiel feel cold inside, abandoned. A Dom abandoned by his sub, it almost sounds ridiculous if it wasn’t so serious. The truth is it’s just as hard for Castiel as it is for a sub, he needs contact, he needs to be able to connect with his sub. And now when he’s deprived of it, he feels himself dropping, slowly but surely. However he knows the thought is irrational, he’s afraid Dean is mad at him, that he blames him for the things he’s done to him, that he must have done something wrong to cause his sub to react this way. And maybe it’s true, he certainly never experienced anything like this. Not in the club where the aftercare is reduced to the moments immediately following the scene. In his experience, the subs tend to be rather clingy. That’s what he expected from Dean too - to need reassurance and praise, to crave Castiel’s touch. The problem is that maybe that’s exactly what he wants and needs, but for some reason, he doesn’t allow himself to have it. He’s basically drawing himself deeper into a drop and Castiel can’t stop it.

It almost makes him panic. He doesn’t know how to break the barrier Dean is building between them, how to approach him. He knows it’s hard for Dean to talk, so forcing him to do that would only make things worse.  He needs to find another way to make Dean unwind.

While he’s stirring pancake batter, he’s watching Dean and trying to use all the experience he has with reading people. He thinks about the scene, what Dean did and what could cause this reaction.

He was spread out for Cas and held down, he’d been forced to take everything Castiel decided to do with him. Even though he claimed to like it, it could have left him feeling... exposed.

Castiel almost smiles when the word appears in his head. Looking at Dean with his knees drawn to his chest and his arms wrapped around them, it’s clear that it’s exactly what is bothering him.

If Castiel finds a way to subdue the discomfort Dean feels from being exposed last night, he might be able to find his way to his sub and make him accept his care.

He thinks about it as he pours the batter into the pan.

"Dean, are you cold?" he asks looking over his shoulder.

Dean shrugs. "Yeah, a bit."

Castiel nods and hands Dean a spatula. "Could you please look after the pancakes for a moment?"

Frowning, Dean stands up and steps to the stove.

Castiel quickly disappears into the bedroom and returns back with an old sweater. It’s been kind of ugly from the moment he received it - deep purple and too big, but it’s soft and worn now so it’s the most comfortable piece of clothing in the whole universe. At least in Castiel’s option and he hopes Dean will agree.

He takes the spatula from Dean and places it on the counter.

Dean looks at him, his frown turns into a confused look when Castiel puts the sweater over his head. He doesn’t protest though and slips his arms into the sleeves. Castiel pulls it down his torso, careful not to touch him more than necessary.

The effect is immediate. Castiel can see the tension drain out of Dean’s muscles and his expression soften. He buries his nose into the soft material of the sweater, probably expecting to smell Castiel.

Cas knows it’s impossible as the sweater is freshly washed. He can’t tell if Dean’s relieved or disappointed because Dean turns away muttering a thank you and returns to his seat.  

 

Castiel thinks everything might get better from now on, but when he spreads all the food he prepared on the table in front of Dean, the man just stares at it blankly.

"You’re not hungry?" Castiel asks, buttering his own toast.

Dean shrugs and pokes the stack of pancakes on his plate with a fork.

"If you want something else, I can prepare it," Castiel suggests, trying to sound civil.

Dean shakes his head. "It’s okay," he mutters, but still isn’t about to start eating.

Castiel tries to give him time, but when he finishes half of his eggs, everything is still the same.

"You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to," he says, this time unable to keep his feelings from tainting his tone.

Dean looks up at him, surprised.

"I mean, you definitely should eat, but I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to."

Castiel regrets saying that when Dean makes a face he can’t decipher. Maybe it meant Castiel already did that and he’s mad. Or he thinks Castiel is giving up on their relationship. It can be anything and Castiel has to focus on keeping his breathing calm.

At least Dean eats his breakfast.

 

They settle on a couch to watch TV. Dean sits as far from Castiel as possible, his back leaning against the armrest, his bend legs forming a barrier between them.

Castiel tries not to think about it. He repeats to himself, that it’s going to be alright. Dean’s going to come by like he did last time. He’s not going to run away from him.

Fortunately, the movie distracts him enough. It distracts him so much that he forgets that he’s not supposed to touch Dean and his hand finds Dean’s ankle on its own volition, his fingers wrap gently around it. When he notices it, he wants to withdraw hurriedly, then he realizes that Dean didn’t flinch or pull away. He takes a steadying breath and starts rubbing the delicate skin stretched over a bone with the pad of his thumb. He isn’t paying attention to the movie anymore, eyes fixed on Dean instead. His face is much more relaxed now. In the sweater that is big enough to be loose even on his bigger frame, he looks amazing. The contrast of the fluffy sweater and Dean’s naked legs is delicious. Castiel only wishes he were wearing lacy panties instead of his gray boxer-briefs and that he were smiling, then it would be perfect.

To his surprise, Dean’s foot inches forward, giving Cas more space to touch. He lets his hand wander up Dean’s shin, fingers dipping under his knee. Dean lets out a sigh and saggs in his seat. A few minutes later Castiel has both Dean’s legs draped over his lap and is massaging his feet.

He returned to watching the movie so when he looks at Dean, he’s surprised to see him staring. His eyes are half lidded and he finally looks content.

Without thinking about it, Castiel reaches for the rim of his sweater and tugs at it.

Dean’s eyes open wide and he shuffles to sit up. At first, Castiel is afraid he’s going to put as much space as possible between them like before, but Dean actually shifts closer and then he’s climbing into Castiel’s lap.

On instinct, Castiel grabs his hips. Dean doesn’t hesitate and wraps his arms around Castiel’s shoulders and buries his face in the crook of his neck, pressing himself close to Castiel’s chest.

Castiel lets out a relieved sigh, hugging Dean tightly.

"Here you are," he whispers into Dean’s ear.

Dean nuzzles at his neck, it feels like his breath is warming Castiel’s heart, not only his skin.

"I’m so sorry," Dean sighs.

Castiel frowns and gently tugs at Dean’s hair to make him pull away so they can look in each other’s face.

"For what?" he asks.

"For being like this," Dean says, averting his eyes.

Castiel’s chest tightens.

"Dean-"

Dean shakes his head, cutting him off. He fumbles with the hem of Cas’ shirt as he continues.

"I’m not used to getting so much attention and I still feel like I don’t deserve it. It makes me feel... exposed, bare, vulnerable. I hate myself for pushing you away but I... I don’t know how to deal with it. I’m sorry."

He takes a deep breath, looking relieved that he got it off his chest, and finally looks at Cas.

"Please don’t," he says gently, "don’t apologize for what you feel. It’s always okay and valid and I’m proud you told me."

Dean’s eyes fall closed and the faintest hint of a smile appears on his lips.

Castiel brushes his lips over Dean’s cheekbone. "I’m okay with you withdrawing yourself from me if I know you’ll come back."

Dean nods vehemently. "I will. I’m so-"

"Shh." Cas presses a finger against Dean’s lips. "I said don’t apologize."

Dean nods and purses his lips to press a little kiss against the tip of Castiel’s finger.

Castiel chuckles and curls the finger under Dean’s chin, pushing it up so he can kiss him, sweet and chaste.

"Tell me how do you feel, Dean. I mean physically."

Dean shrugs. "Like I could sleep for a week."

Castiel smiles fondly. He lets his hands slip under Dean’s sweater, fingers pressing lightly into the warm skin.

"I’m fine but I- ugh, I’d rather not have sex today," he admits, shifting a little in Cas’ lap.

Castiel’s smile grows wider as he notices the light blush coloring Dean’s cheeks.

"That’s okay, Dean. I think we both had enough yesterday."

Dean’s eyes snap up, finding his. "Did you?"

Castiel huffs out a laugh.

"Dean, it might be a disappointment for you, but my refractory period usually isn’t like that. I don’t know what you did to me, but I feel like I’m turning into a horny teenager with you."

The way Dean’s eyes sparkle as he grins brightly is so beautiful, it takes Cas’ breath away.

"Really?"

"Yes, I seem unable to keep my hands off of you." Cas’ hands slide up Dean’s back, making him shift closer to Cas’ chest.

"Hm," he hums into Cas’ ear. "I might change my opinion on the no sex thing."

"No," Castiel says firmly. "Today we rest."

Dean purses his lips. "Not even a blow job?"

Castiel can’t hold back a laugh. "There might be a good night blow job if you’re a good boy."

"I am a good boy," Dean purrs nipping at Castiel’s jaw.

"‘Course you are," Castiel sighs. His heart flutters, happy with the change of Dean’s mood. 

 


	10. Possession Marks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? It's been six months. I'm a horrible human being for letting you wait for so long, I know and I'm really sorry. I hope I will be better in balancing personal life with writing better during fall and winter.  
> In my opinion, this is the filthiest chapter so far, but I hope you're gonna enjoy it. Please see endnotes for spoilery warning  
> Please let me know if you are still interested in this story, I need to know I still have someone to write for.

Knowing how little time they’ll probably be able to spend together next week, Dean doesn’t protest when Castiel asks him to stay until Monday morning. This time he doesn’t stay in bed while Cas gets up for work though. He has a delivery to accept so he needs to be at work early.

It’s actually nice to get up with Castiel. Dean likes how they work around each other. It’s easy and almost domestic.

"Dean, we have to go," Cas calls from the living room. Dean takes a last look in the mirror and leaves the bathroom.

"Okay, let’s go," he says as he walks past Cas into the hallway, but Castiel doesn’t look like he’s about to leave. He stays frozen in place, staring at Dean like he sees him for the first time. Dean stops in his track and looks at Castiel with a concerned frown.

"Cas? Is something wrong?"

Instead of answering, Cas takes two long strands towards Dean. There’s something in his expression that almost makes Dean back off.

Castiel leans into Dean’s personal space and takes a deep breath. "Is that my cologne?" he growls.

Dean suppresses a shiver. "Yeah," he breathes out.  "I’m sorry I didn’t-"

Before he can say the rest of his apology, he’s slammed against a wall.

"Dean" Castiel’s voice rumbles like a storm in a distance as he nuzzles into Dean’s neck.

Dean takes a shaky breath and presses his palms against the wall, not sure if he’s allowed to touch Castiel.

There’s something wild and animalistic about him, it evokes a mixture of fear and arousal in Dean.

"You have no idea what you’re doing to me," Cas says nibbling at Dean’s earlobe. Dean thinks he has a pretty good idea as he feels Castiel’s growing erection pressed against his thigh. The cologne smells different on Dean, but it’s still recognizable. Dean likes it, likes the implication. It’s another kind of a mark. Cas apparently likes it too judging by the way he kisses Dean’s neck.

"Cas," Dean breathes out, clutching the back of Cas’ shirt with one hand. "We don’t have time."

"I don’t care," Castiel growls before he sucks hard on Dean’s pulse point.

"Cas," Dean tries to protest but it’s weak, his body goes pliant in reaction to Castiel’s insistence.

With a guttural sound, Castiel grabs Dean’s shoulder and makes him turn around. Dean’s breath is pushed out of his lungs, his face pressed against the cold plaster. Cas holds him pinned to the wall with one hand and the weight of his body while he uses his other hand to free himself out of his pants. Dean makes a small desperate sound, the last vain sign of protest when Castiel attacks his zipper and then pulls his jeans and boxers down. He drags the flushed head of his cock through the creak of Dean’s ass. Dean’s heart skips a beat. For a second he thinks Cas is going to fuck him dry. The thought makes his blood freeze in his veins but at the same time, he knows he’s unable to protest. But then Cas pushes his cock into the tight space between Dean’s thighs. Dean lets out a relieved sigh. He was being so silly, thinking that Cas would hurt him.

With a huff of breath that tickles Dean’s neck, Cas starts to thrust, one hand gripping Dean’s hip so hard he’s going to leave bruises, the other still pressed to his back. It’s weird and strangely erotic to feel Cas rubbing against him, the skin getting slick with precome, the tip of Cas’  cock nudging the back of Dean’s sack, Cas’ hips slamming into Dean’s ass. Castiel’s breath is labored and he’s letting out little grunts, he’s ruthlessly working toward his orgasm using Dean’s body. Surprisingly Dean realizes that being used is what he finds so arousing. With a moan, he pushes one hand under his cheek and wraps the other around his hard cock stroking himself quickly.

The whole act is obscene and wrong in the best way and Dean loses himself in the unbridled passion. Cas’ thrusts get harder, then his hips stutter and he comes, biting down on Dean’s shoulder. The pain shoots through Dean, mixes with the pleasure and pushes him over the edge.

There’s a moment of catching breath silently, then Castiel pulls out a tissue and cleans Dean up. The act is so perfunctory it makes Dean blush. He turns around, leans against the wall and stiffens with surprise at the sight of Cas. The man looks ashamed, which is something Dean has never expected to see.

"Cas?"

"Fuck, I’m sorry," he mutters running his hand through his hair.  "I can’t believe I forced myself on you." He looks up and his eyes are full of regret. It makes Dean’s heart clench. He cups Cas’ cheek in his hand.

"Come on, Cas. I enjoyed it, didn’t you notice?"

Castiel turns his head to press his lips against Dean’s palm. "I know but... we weren’t in a scene, I shouldn’t have-"

"Stop it. It was okay. If I wanted you to stop I would have told you."

"Would you have?"

Dean hesitates. There was the moment when he thought he would let Cas do anything, but it didn’t matter.

"I know you wouldn’t hurt me."

"But would you tell me to stop?" there’s such intensity in Cas’ voice it scares Dean a little. He realizes how important it is for Cas to be able to trust him in this.

"I would." He wants to believe it.

* * *

 

_"You’re my little bitch," Cas growls, his breath ruffling a strand of blond hair. The sub lets out a moan against Cas’ neck. "Such a cock slut, so greedy." The man in his lap moves his hips faster, fucking himself harder on the dildo in Cas’ hand._

_"Uh-huh, don’t you dare to come, you don’t deserve that," he says with a malicious smile, squeezing his client’s cock. The man groans and Cas feels nails digging into his skin._

* * *

 

On his back, Cas’ fingers deep in his ass, Dean lets out a moan that Castiel swallows in a kiss.

On their journey up Castiel’s arm, Dean’s fingers come across the scratches now scabbed over. Dean makes a disgruntled sound and breaks the kiss.

Cas withdraws his hand and looks at Dean questioningly.

"What’s this?" Dean asks eyes fixed on Cas’ shoulder, brows furrowed.

"Nothing," Cas mumbles and tries to distract Dean by nibbling at his neck.

"It doesn’t look like nothing," Dean growls, there’s a dangerous undertone that makes Cas stop and look into his lover’s eyes. He finds sparks of a beginning anger which tell him that Dean already figured out that the scratches were made by fingernails.

"It was a client who got carried away." The sparks flare up. Dean pushes Cas away. Cas sits back on his heels but tries to reach for Dean when he starts getting up. Dean flinches further away, rolls to his side and sits on the edge of the bed.

"Dean, I’m sorry I-"

"I want you to stop!" Dean barks out. The moment the words leave his mouth he stills, the anger in his eyes is exchanged for surprise and he covers his mouth with his hand.

"To stop working at the club?" Cas asks to make sure. He tries to keep his voice without inflection.

Dean shakes his head. "I didn’t- I have no right to want that."

"Of course you do," Cas says softly. He slowly reaches out to place his hand on Dean’s knee, and this time Dean lets him.

"Dean, you’re my partner. You have every right to express your discomfort with what I’m doing."

Dean turns to him, his breath quickened, eyes wide.

"It’s pretty understandable and most people wouldn’t tolerate me working with a sub even once since we got together."

Dean drops his eyes, he fidgets with a thread on the bedsheet. Cas gently takes his face into both his palms and makes him look up. "I’m gonna stop."

Dean opens his mouth to protest, but Cas cuts him off. "I’m gonna stop not only because it makes you uncomfortable, but because I want to. It doesn’t give me anything anymore. I have you and you’re enough."

Dean bites his lip to stop it from trembling. He closes his eyes and turns his head to press a kiss into Cas’ palm. Cas lets out a soft chuckle and pulls Dean into a hug.

"Are we okay?" he asks. Dean nods but in the tension of his shoulders, Cas can feel there’s still something on his mind.

"Dean? Is there something else?"

Dean hesitates, then he takes a deep breath. "Can you fuck me like... real hard?"

Cas huffs in surprise. "You sure that’s what you want?"

Dean looks him straight in the eyes and nods.

Not wasting a single second Castiel presses him down onto the mattress.

 

Cas pushes inside in one smooth movement. Dean gasps, his body tensing before going pliant. He loves the moment right after Cas enters him. It’s like the whole world gets blurred and the only thing clear and sharp is Cas and the way he fills him.

This time, though, Cas doesn’t let Dean truly enjoy the moment. Too soon he pulls almost all the way out just to slam back in with a force that makes Dean cry out and scramble desperately for a purchase. He grabs for Cas’ shoulder, but Cas pulls his hand away and to the headboard. When Dean obediently gets a hold on it, Cas pushes his knees up, almost bending him in half so he can get even deeper. Then he starts to fuck him in earnest.

Dean wants to scream Cas’ name, to tell him that this is exactly what he needed, to swear, but all he’s capable of are punched-out cries and quick gasps for breath. He feels like he’s on fire, his whole body ignited with the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. By the time Cas’ thrusts turn fast and shallow, he’s sobbing quietly, his cheeks are wet with tears. Cas kisses him hastily, quick tongue and sharp teeth. Dean wraps his arms around him and this time Cas lets him. Dean feels his muscles shake -the sign that he’s just as swallowed by passion as Dean is, just as close to climax, but trying to make it last.

They come almost in unison. All it takes for Dean is a brush of Cas’ fingers over the head of his cock and as soon as his body convulses with the force of his orgasm, Cas is tipped over the edge too, filling Dean’s abused hole with hot come, then collapsing on top of him.

For a few long minutes, there’s nothing but heavy breaths and thuds of their racing hearts pressed close together. Cas pulls out, all the merciless hardness which with he took Dean apart drained out of his body and exchanged for gentleness. 

He rolls on his back and tries to pull Dean against his chest but he’s stopped by a disgruntled sound. He freezes. Has he overstepped a line? Has he pushed Dean too far?

Dean lets out a sigh. With an arm thrown over his face, he finds Cas’ hand and squeezes it. He doesn’t want to push Cas away but the idea of being touched makes him uneasy. His nerves feel raw, overstimulated.

Cas relaxes and takes their intertwined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss against Dean’s knuckles watching as Dean’s lips curl up in a tired smile.

"Shower?"

Dean shakes his head, the only movement he’s willing to make in a while. He must doze off for a moment because when he opens his eyes there’s a glass of juice and a wet washcloth on the nightstand and he can hear the water running in the bathroom. He drinks before he cleans the worst of the mess on his belly. He reaches behind himself and gasps when his finger grazes his hole, puffy and sensitive and wet with come. With a sated sigh he drops the washcloth and closes his eyes. He hears the shower stop and the door open, smells Cas’ body wash and feels the damp warmth that radiates off of him when he leans down to tuck him in and press a kiss to his forehead.

When Dean wakes up Cas isn’t in the bed with him, but there’s the old sweater ready for him. He slips into it gladly.

* * *

 

"So how’s Mr.Perfect?" Charlie asks over her cup of coffee.

"He’s not perfect."

There’s a pause. Only when Dean looks up from his pie and sees the frown on his friend’s face does he realize the certainty in his voice must have sound bad to her. He didn’t mean it like that, though, Cas isn’t perfect by far but Dean wouldn’t have him any different.

"But he’s good, he’s good to me," he blurts out. The suspicious expression doesn’t disappear.

"So is it serious or is it just sex?"

Dean’s mouth suddenly feels dry. He takes a sip from his cup.

"It’s uh... it’s mostly sex, to be honest. But really good sex and-" He takes a deep breath. It’s hard to explain but if there’s someone who can understand, it’s Charlie.

"He understands me so much in bed that I feel I can trust him in everything else. We just... it’s too soon and we don’t spend enough time together because of his shitty boss so when we are together we mostly fuck or just lazy around watching movies or cooking or something like that. We’re getting to know each other slowly. Hell, I only recently found out he’s doing yoga. He has this whole yoga corner in his apartment with candles and incense and stuff. So yeah we’re only just learning things about each other but so far I like what I’m finding out and you know it’s all new to me to be with someone like that and he... it’s similar to him so that’s that."

He gasps for breath, realizing that he was talking so quickly he forgot to inhale. Charlie has her mouth hidden behind a cup but when she lowers it she reveals a bright smile. Dean feels something uncoil in his chest and his face mirrors hers.

"You, Dean Winchester, are so smitten it’s ridiculous!" she says with a chuckle.

"M’ not," Dean murmurs into his coffee but he can’t stop smiling.

* * *

 

"No," Dean groans sleepily. He agreed to sleep over at Castiel’s place even though he knew it meant getting up early. Now he regrets the decision. At least until he feels Cas’ hot lips behind his ear and Cas’ hand traveling down his back and over the curve of his ass.

"Hello, sleepyhead. I have a gift for you, but only if you get up."

Dean rolls to his side and looks at Cas with one eye. "A gift?"

Cas’ smile is cunning which gives away the nature of the present and stirs interest in Dean.

"What is it?"

"Look for yourself." Cas shows him a paper box but when Dean reaches for it, he draws back forcing Dean to sit up with more grumpy groaning.

He takes the box and even though he’s basically shaking with anticipation, he gives himself a moment to study Cas’ face.

He’s hiding his excitement well, but not well enough. Dean doesn’t miss the sparkle in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath he opens the box. The first impression is just a lot of green - beautiful rich emerald. Then he realizes what he’s actually looking at and he shuts the box close. His hands are trembling as he stares at the lid.

"Dean? What’s wrong?" Cas reaches for Dean’s hand, squeezing it gently with his warm fingers. "Oh my god, you hate it. It’s okay if you hate it, just say it!"

Dean looks up, confused for a second, then he realized that Cas got his reaction wrong. He shakes his head hurriedly.

"No, I don’t, Cas. I don’t hate it, it’s just... it’s too pretty, I don’t deserve it."

Cas frowns. It’s the kind of frown that actually makes Dean a little afraid of him. Righteous anger.

"Don’t you ever say things like that, Dean. It’s bullshit. You deserve all the beautiful things in the world."

Dean feels his cheeks burning hot with a flush. "I-I-"

Cas shuts him up by kissing him. "Stop talking and open the box," he growls against Dean’s lips.

The flood of green is still surprising. The luxury of the items still hard for Dean to accept. The lacy panties are the most delicate thing he’s ever seen. The material soft under Dean’s fingers. On top of the lingerie is lying a jeweled buttplug, stainless steel and a sparkly gem matching the color of the panties. Dean runs his finger over it too, enjoying the contrast of the hard cold steel and soft warm fabric. He’s getting hard already, just thinking about wearing his presents.  

"So?" Cas asks.

"So, it’s really amazing, but I still think you shouldn’t have-"

"Yeah, I should have. To be honest, Dean, it’s as much a present for me as it is for you."

Dean looks up at him with a grin, then pulls him into a kiss. For a few long minutes, the box gets abandoned.

Cas licks the shell of Dean’s ear before he whispers: "I want you to wear it to work today."

Dean’s heart skips a beat. "W-what?"

"Please," Castiel breathes out, his breath hot against Dean’s neck.

The idea of wearing the pretty panties and being plugged in public where no one but him and Cas will know makes him hot all over.

"Okay," he answers, barely audible. He feels Cas’ smile against his cheek.

"Should I use my mouth or my hand to prep you?"

Dean bites his lip. "Mouth." He pretends he doesn’t notice the smug expression on the Dom’s face.

 

It’s much different from the first time Cas ate him out. It’s not gentle and careful. He dives right in - licking and sucking and pushing his tongue into Dean’s hole as deep as possible. It turns Dean into an incoherent mess in mere seconds. He’s on the verge of orgasm when the lubed plug touches his hole. Cas pushes it in to the widest part, then pulls it all the way out and back in only to make Dean moan and writhe. Then it’s finally in, the jeweled end snug between Dean’s cheeks. Cas runs a finger over the gem with appreciative hum, then he slaps Dean’s ass teasingly.

"Okay, put on the panties and don’t forget the rules," he orders and gets up.

"What? You are leaving _now?"_ Dean asks, horrified. He’s painfully hard and so turned on he’s about to lose his mind.

"I’m already late for work, babe," Cas says grabbing a jacket from the closet.

"You’re so cruel."

"That I am. And you love it." He blows him a kiss.

Dean makes a disgruntled sound and grinds against the bed.

"The rules!" Cas barks and Dean freezes. He looks over his shoulder, relieved when he sees Cas smiling.

"Have a nice day, Dean. See you after work." With that, he leaves.

"Fuck!" Dean moans. He’s gonna need a cold shower.

 

It’s torture. It’s a slow day, the few customers don’t keep Dean occupied enough. He tries to distract himself but his mind still comes back to the drag of lace against his cock - half hard thanks to the plug in his hole.

When he put on the panties and looked into the mirror, what he saw took away his breath. Though he’d never say it out loud he knows he looks good, but damn with the deep green lace and the twinkle of the jewel under it he looked incredible. The sight of himself made him hard.

When the boredom gets too much and it’s around noon which is the part of the day when almost no one comes to buy books, Dean gives up. He goes to the backroom where he has a big mirror on the wall.

He opens his pants, his breath hitching at the sight of lace then drags them down just below his ass. First, he takes a picture over his shoulder showing off his booty in the panties, the plug barely visible but there. With his heart racing, he sends the picture to Cas. He waits for a reply just long enough to start freaking out, but then his phone buzzes and he feels a rush of excitement.

_I’m at a very important meeting and you are VERY distracting. You need to wait_

Dean bites his lower lip imagining Cas in a meeting room checking his phone discreetly and finding Dean’s photo. He imagines his Dom getting hard in his slacks while keeping his poker face.

He feels a mischievous smile spreading on his face as he turns towards the mirror. He starts rubbing himself through the fabric of the panties and has to stifle a moan because it’s _delicious._ He probably shouldn’t be touching himself, but officially he’s just not allowed to make himself come, right? The taste of forbidden makes it all even better though.

He snaps a photo of his hard cock trapped in the lace, his hand framing it but not touching.

He sends it with a note: _But it’s so HARD._

He waits for an answer, chewing his lips. He hopes Cas is going to reply something nasty. Maybe promising a punishment or even a picture of his own boner.

He waits for several minutes, but his phone remains silent. He swallows the bitter taste of disappointment and returns into the shop. It feels even lonelier and more boring than before.

He starts sorting out the stack of new comic books Charlie brought earlier and is halfway through when the bell above the door rings. He looks up and his breath hitches. The tan trenchcoat flutters as Cas storms in. Dean only needs one look to know that Cas is angry. With a swift motion, Castiel slams the door shut and turns the sign to CLOSED.

Dean stares at him, frozen to the spot, as Cas walks towards him, face stern.

"What did I tell you?" he growls as he reaches the counter. Dean instinctively steps back.

"I-that I-" before he manages to stammer anything out Cas steps behind the counter and grabs the front of Dean’s shirt.

"You just couldn’t wait, could you?" His voice is so deep and husky it makes Dean’s hair stand on the end. He’s unable to move, paralyzed by the shock of Cas being here, being angry with him.

Castiel’s free hand reaches for the back of Dean’s neck and pulls him down. Cas’ lips brush Dean’s ear.

"You little horny slut. Couldn’t wait a few hours to be fucked. Had to break the rules to get his hole stuffed as soon as possible."

Dean closes his eyes and swallows. Part of him is genuinely scared of Cas’ anger. Another part, the one in charge of his cock, finds it arousing. Before any of them can win, Cas moves abruptly, pushing Dean against the counter, bending him over the top.

"I’ll fuck you right here, like the little impatient slut you are," Cas growls. He presses himself against Dean’s back, pinning him down. That finally tips the scales and Dean feels a surge of panic. He braces his hands against the countertop and pushes back, but Cas is too strong.

"No!" Dean whines desperately. Castiel only presses closer, his breath is hot on Dean’s face.

" _No_ is not the word that’s going to stop me. You know the right word."

Dean’s heart is still hammering against his ribs but he manages to take a deep breath instead of just a shallow gasp. Cas is reminding him of his safeword which means this is a scene. He’s not actually mad at Dean. The calming effect of the fact is immense. The fear is gone and on top of it realizing that the reins are actually in his hands make aware of how incredibly hot the situation is.

"I do," he breathes out his answer and his consent at once. When Cas reaches for the zipper of his pants, he struggles against him just for the hell of it.

Castiel rips his pants off, dragging them to his knees. When he drags his palm over Dean’s cock through the lace, Dean trembles with want. Cas pushes the back of the panties to the side so he can touch the jeweled base of the plug, making Dean gasp. He pulls the plug out, then thrusts it in and out several times. Dean’s knees are almost buckling when the Dom puts the plug carefully on the counter and replaces it with the blunt head of his cock. He drags it teasingly against Dean’s rim.

"I should make you beg."

"Please," Dean breathes out.

Cas pushes in hard, Dean cries out, the counter bites into his hips, he grabs its edge for purchase.

"Yeah, baby, scream so everyone who passes by knows what I’m doing to you."

Dean looks towards the door. The counter can’t be seen through the shop windows, but the door isn’t locked so if somebody misses the CLOSED sign they could walk right in and see Dean being fucked over the countertop.

The idea makes Dean’s cock twitch and at the same time, it makes him realize how perverted the situation is. He doesn’t have time to ponder it though because Cas starts fucking him and all coherent thoughts leave him in instant.

 He leans his face on the cold surface of the counter and puts his clenched fist against his mouth to stifle his moans. Cas’ hand returns to Dean’s cock and the delicate feeling of the lace in the contrast with hard thrusts makes Dean almost lose his mind.

It’s fast and dirty. The whole space of the shop is filled with the obscene sounds of their heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin.

"Come on, ruin the pretty panties, make them dirty for me."

Dean gasps as he’s pushed over the edge. His cock twitches in its lacy cage spilling on the luxurious fabric. Castiel comes with a growl a moment later and leans heavily on Dean. For a few labored breaths, they stay like this.

Then Castiel straightens, his cock still inside Dean and reaches for the plug waiting on the countertop. "I’m gonna plug my come inside your greedy hole and you are wearing the dirty panties for the rest of the day so you know what you’ve done."

"What?" Dean whispers, shocked. It was hard enough just to wear the plug and panties, now it’s going to be unbearable. But what’s worse is the nagging feeling that Cas is actually mad at him. He gave Dean an out in the form of a safeword, but it doesn’t mean Dean didn’t piss him off by acting against his rules.

The plug is uncomfortably cold when it takes the place of Cas’ hot flesh. Dean lets out a  desperate whine. He feels hot all over not just with the afterglow of the orgasm, but with shame.

Castiel grabs his shoulders and pulls him upright. When Dean reluctantly turns to face him, Cas’ expression is soft. He pulls a tissue from his pocket and cleans the worse of Dean’s mess from the panties, then he tucks him carefully in his pants and zips them up. The whole time Dean stares at him, his mind in a turmoil.

Cas finally looks up, he smiles and strokes Dean’s cheek softly. Then he frowns seeing Dean’s stunned expression. "Are you okay? Is it too much? Tell me if it is."

Dean lets out a heavy breath, his whole body relaxing. _Cas is not angry, he’s not angry, it was just a scene._

He shakes his head and leans down, he doesn’t kiss Cas but waits for him to capture his lips with his mouth. When they part, Dean feels a smile spreading over his face.

Cas beams at him, running his fingers through Dean’s tousled hair.

"Call me if you need anything."

"I won’t distract you at work anymore?"

Cas huffs out a laugh.

"No, the important meeting is over."

It’s Dean’s turn to laugh. "Okay. Will you get me when you’re done?"

"I will." He gives him a final kiss and heads for the door. He winks at Dean as he stops to turn the sign to OPEN.

 

He thought that after bearing it for the whole day he could wait some more, but sitting in the pizza place Dean’s uncomfortable and nervous. All he wants to do is go home, get properly fucked, get a bath and then sleep for ten hours. Instead he’s there with loud people, stupid pop songs playing in the background and a waitress that’s smiling at Cas a bit too sweetly. He’s still frowning at the menu, not able to concentrate enough to actually read anything when the waitress brings their drinks and asks what they choose to eat.

"One Meat lovers, one Margarita," Cas orders, the girl writes it down and leaves with a wink directed to Cas.

Dean glovers at him over the menu.

"What?" Cas asks and sips his juice.

"What about asking me what I actually want?"

Cas’ relaxed expression turns horrified.

"Oh my god, I’m sorry." He puts his glass down and reaches for Dean’s hand on the table, but Dean flinches back.

"Dean, I’m really sorry, I didn’t- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-"

"You shouldn’t," Dean growls. Cas drops his eyes to the tabletop. He looks ashamed, miserable actually. And maybe Dean’s overreacting, maybe he’s just too strained today, but taking orders from Cas in bed and letting him direct his life in other aspects are two different things.

"Do you want to change the order? I will call the waitress back," Cas offers, his voice uncertain like the first time they had a dinner together.

"No," Dean sighs. He doesn’t say he would have ordered the same himself. It’s actually part of why he’s so annoyed. Cas knows him so well and while usually it’s a good thing, Dean suddenly realizes it can be used against him.

"I told you that sometimes I-"

"I know," Dean cuts him off. He remembers clearly how Cas warned him that he tends to get dominant in everyday life too. He already has noticed in little things and this isn’t even really a big thing, it’s just very clear even though quite innocent.

"I know that the fact that I warned you isn’t an excuse. I’m really sorry, Dean. I will try not to be like that ever again."

Part of Dean wants to be pissed, the other part melts at how genuine Cas’ eyes are when he apologizes.

Dean sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I believe you won’t. I’m sorry I’m overreacting a bit, but I’m running out of mental energy. I just wanna go home."

"I’m going to tell the waitress to pack it for us to take out, okay?"

"Great idea."

 

All the frustration of the day turns Dean needy, touch-starved. The moment they enter Cas’ apartment, Dean’s hands are on him, pushing him against the door, tugging at his clothes. "Now, here," he chokes out between frantic kisses.

"Shh, shh, easy," Cas whispers against Dean’s insistent lips. Letting out a desperate whine, Dean stills and presses himself against Cas.

"Let me take care of you." He helps Dean out of his jacket, kissing his cheeks and neck. Then they work together on getting Dean out of his pants, shoes, and socks.

Castiel takes a last look at Dean in the pretty lingerie, then he grabs him and switches their position so it’s Dean with his naked back against the door.

Dean’s eyes are dark and hungry as he impatiently watches Cas shrugging off his coat. He only waits for Cas to open his pants before he pulls him close by the collar of his shirt.

"Cas," Dean pleads and Castiel decides he has let the boy wait long enough. He pushes the green lace down Dean’s hips and as soon as Dean steps out of the panties, Cas hauls his leg up and places it on the shoe rack next to them.

The plug drops on the floor with a hard thud. Dean cries out when Castiel enters him, but this time the Dom lets him be as loud as he wants. Who cares about neighbors?

Dean clings to him for dear life. Arms wound tightly around Cas’ shoulders, fingers digging into muscles. For a moment Dean wraps his legs around Cas’ too and Castiel manages to hold him up against the wall. It doesn’t last long as Dean isn’t a small man, but they both enjoy the couple of hard thrusts immensely - Dean with his head thrown back, screaming his lungs out, Cas staring at his beautiful lover’s blissed-out face, grunting his name.

They come hard, almost violent and the exhaustion hits right after. Dean leans heavily against the wall with his eyes closed. He’s sore and tired but he feels sated. His limbs are heavy, but his head is light, He feels come leaking out of his abused hole running down the back of his thigh. It’s a reminder of the fact that he’s been fucked twice, both times hard and dirty. It brings a delighted little smile to his lips. Before he can reach down to wipe away the mess he feels Cas drop down to his knees in front of him. He opens his eyes and gasps in shock when Cas’ tongue darts out and licks the cooling jizz. Dean chokes out a surprised cry and leans his foot on the shoe rack again to give Cas space. He stares down at him unbelievingly as Cas licks and sucks at his hole, eating out his own come. It’s the filthiest and most intimate thing Dean has ever experienced. He wants to show Cas that he’s all in for that so he tugs at his hair and when Cas stands up, he kisses him deeply, licking the taste off his tongue.

And then suddenly it’s all too much, too deep. He realizes that he would let Cas do anything to him and he would enjoy every second of it. He belongs to him with every fiber of his body and soul. But there’s a cold uncertainty in his heart that Cas doesn’t feel the same, that he Doesn’t belong to Dean in the same way. The inequality scares him and he feels an acute need to get rid of the gape between them. He pulls Cas so close to him that it must be painful and his lips and teeth find a sensitive spot on Cas’ neck - a perfect place for a mark. Dean himself has been marked several times since they’ve been together but never himself dared to leave his own mark on Cas’ skin. His hard teeth touch Cas’ neck but he waits. He feels a shiver run down Cas’ body.

"Okay," Cas rasps out. His voice betrays that he realizes the significance of it.

Dean sinks his teeth hard into Cas’ skin, nearly drawing blood. The sound that escapes Cas’ lips is the most beautiful of all sounds and it resonates deep inside Dean’s chest. Dean licks the tender mark afterward as they lean tiredly against each other.

 

The pizza is cold but the water in the bathtub is hot and soothing. They don’t talk, just bask in the closeness of each other. They touch gently, caringly, making sure that everything is okay, that all strains and aches will pass.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> -Very brief scene where Cas is with a client. It´s in italics so you can skip it if it makes you uncomfortable.  
> -Scene which can be considered dubious consent but it´s discussed later by the characters.  
> -Sex in public place where anyone can come in on them in any minute (but doesn´t)  
> -Felching


	11. Big Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! Let me tell you how much I love you and how happy I am that you love this story. Thank you for all the amazing comments! They were all so lovely I cried a little. I´d love to reply to every single one of them but I´m terrible at that and I decided it would be a better reward to just give you another chapter as soon as possible. So here you go. There´s a bit more plot than originally planned, I hope you´d like it despite a bit of angst.

Dean stops in the doorway to contemplate the state of his apartment. It looks abandoned. Not "there was a disaster and the inhabitants had to leave in a rush" kind of abandoned. It isn’t messy. It is actually less messy than usual, there aren’t any piles of dirty dishes and no clothes scattered around waiting for laundry day. Except for the dust gathered on the furniture, it is clean. It just somehow feels not lived-in. It makes Dean realize how little time he’s been spending there these days. He usually just drops in to grab some stuff or pick his mail and sleeps here only a few days of a week, mostly when he or Cas have to stay late at work.

It feels weird. He used to love the apartment almost as much as he loves his shop. It’s something he’s worked hard for, something of his own. But now, when he knows what it’s like to share a space with someone - space that isn’t a cheap motel room or an old car- the apartment isn’t enough. Cas’ place, on the other hand, feels more like home even though Dean has only a few drawers with his own stuff. It’s probably the memories they have made there. Intense scenes and lazy cuddles alike.

It’s almost scary how much space Cas has taken in Dean’s life in such a short time. Even scarier is the thought that it might not last. Dean isn’t naive. He knows that the honeymoon phase has to end eventually. That if their relationship stays based on sex, it can’t last. That there’s a huge possibility one of them getting bored with the other. The idea makes him almost physically sick, but he can’t ignore it. 

* * *

 

"This way you’re going to eat all the popcorn before the movie even starts."

"And what?" Claire says over a mouthful of popcorn. Castiel chuckles shaking his head.

Claire slides lower in her seat and offers Cas some popcorn. Cas grabs a handful and pushes it into his mouth.

"So, where’s Dean?" Claire asks looking at the dark screen.

Castiel has a hard time trying not to choke on his popcorn.

"You two are dating, right? So why don’t I ever see him? Are you ashamed of me? Or him?"

"No, no, no! Claire, for god's sake why would you think that?"

She shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but Castiel recognizes her blank expression as her pretending not to be upset. "You kind of keep us apart."

Cas opens his mouth to argue, but he realizes she’s right.

"I just... I... it just didn’t occur to me that you two would like to spend time together."

"Well, it’s not like I _want to_ spend time with _him._ But you don’t have to shoo him away when you’re meeting with me."

"You wouldn’t mind if he came with us today?" Cas asks just to make sure he understands.

"I told you I thought he was cool. And I bet he’d like the movie."

"Okay, alright. Next time I’ll tell him he can join us."

"Fine," she says hiding her smile by turning back towards the screen where the commercials just start.

Cas leans back in his seat wondering why his heart is beating so fast.

* * *

 

Dean sighs as he looks over the papers covering the table in front of him. He gets up and goes pour himself a shot. He pretends the burn of alcohol can mask the tightness of his throat.

He hates this time of the month, usually dreads it long before it comes. This time though, he’s been so occupied enjoying his relationship with Cas that he kind of forgot. And now the effect is even worse than usual.

He sits down and looks at the digits he’s scribbled down. He sighs again. The shop itself is in the green, if only barely. The problem is all the other of Dean’s expenses. He tries to think about what he could cut down on, but can’t think of anything. He only buys the most basic stuff, he doesn’t feel any need to indulge himself thanks to Cas’ gifts. The only thing that is unreasonably expensive is Baby. Keeping her in good shape costs a lot, but thinking about selling her makes Dean want to puke.

He looks at the numbers written next to the words _Sam_ and _rehab_.

A treacherous thought creeps into his mind that everything would be easier if he didn’t have a family he has to support. He pushes it away, feeling guilty on top of everything. His family is small and broken as it is, he would hate to lose any of them for good. He’d support them even if he didn’t have anything to eat himself. Part of him just can’t stop being angry that it’s _him_ who has to do it, while it should be somebody else.

His phone rings and he picks it up without looking at the caller's ID.

"Hello, this is doctor Missouri Moseley, can I talk to Dean Winchester?"

"Speaking."

"Hello, Dean, I’m calling because of your father."

Dean’s heart skips a beat and it’s a struggle to draw a breath. The timing makes him want to laugh and scream at the same time.

"What’s he done?" his voice sounds alien to his own ears.

The doctor sighs. There’s something oddly motherly in her voice as she speaks.

"He’s at the of Ruby Valley General Hospital, but he’s stable. He attempted suicide yesterday night. "

"What?" Dean feels as if the world shifts a little under his feet. He feels like he’s about to fall.

"He managed to steal some pills. Fortunately, the nurse noticed soon enough."

"Are you sure he didn’t just try to get high and fucked up the dose?"

"No, we are fairly sure that was not the case."

Dean doesn’t know what to say. He can’t believe this is really happening.

"Dean, I think you should come to see him."

Dean barks out a laugh. It’s an ugly sound. And for some reason, his cheeks feel wet.

"Yeah because that’s what he wants, isn’t it? I told him I didn’t want to see him ever again so he had to find a way to force me. He had to have it his way as always."

"Dean, I think you’re being unfair to your father."

"You don’t know him," Dean hisses.

"I don’t know him the way you do. But I’ve spoken to him every day for over a year so I think I’m pretty familiar with the man he’s _now._ "

"Apparently he’s a man who attempted a suicide now."

Moseley sighs again, this time it’s the kind of sigh that makes Dean feel a bit ashamed of what he’s said.

"Dean, did it ever occur to you that your father actually wants to make things right with you? That he might be genuinely upset about you not wanting him in your life?"

"Don’t make this my fault!" Dean barks out. "It’s not! It’s not my fault!"

"Shh, Dean, shh. Calm down, son. Of course, it’s not your fault. Nobody’s blaming you."

Dean sits down. He hadn't realized he's jumped up. He tries to calm down his breathing and focus on Moseley's voice.

"Dean, I was just trying to tell you that your father is a man with a lot of issues but he’s been working hard on dealing with them. And even though it might sound weird to you, what he did is only proof of how serious he is about getting better. I just think he often has a hard time in believing in himself and last night his self-doubt won over him. But I’m sure knowing that somebody else believes in him would do him wonders."

"I don’t wanna help him. He doesn’t deserve my help." Dean sounds weak, like a petulant child.

"Then help yourself. Admit to  yourself that you need to resolve what’s between you two."

"I’m not good at talking and he’s even worse. That’s not gonna work."

"Then come to a session with him and I will help you both with the talking."

"I’m not going to a shrink."

"Dean."

"I’m not!"

"Just think about it."

"Fine."

There’s a bit of silence. Moseley is giving Dean space to say something else.

"Thank you for calling." He doesn’t know what else to say. He doesn’t want her to tell John to get well soon. Maybe he should give her his condolences for having to deal with the asshole.

"Goodbye," he says at last and hangs up.

He just stares numbly out of the window. Then he grabs the first thing he can reach and throws it against the wall. It’s the whiskey bottle. It shatters and the drink splashes on the plaster filling the air with the smell of alcohol.

"FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

His hands are shaking and he feels like he’s going to hyperventilate. This is too much. It’s just too much. First the money, then this. He feels like the world is falling on his shoulders and he’s going to collapse under the weight.

He sits down on the cold floor, draws his knees to his chest and rests his forehead on his arms. He squeezes his eyes shut and the darkness calms him a little, but the suffocating feeling doesn’t disappear. He rubs the back of his neck and his fingers find a tender spot. Cas’ mark.

Dean knows what he needs right now. The only thing that can carry him away from all his trouble, that can make his life feel like less of a disaster if just for a while.

* * *

 

Castiel freezes. He gave Dean his keys a while back, but he didn’t expect him to be here today. He definitely didn’t expect to find him here _like that_. Stark naked, kneeling on the carpet, his hands behind his back, his shoulders straight but his head bowed. It resembles the first moment he’s ever seen him so much it makes Cas’ breath stuck in his throat.

As delightful as the sight is, Cas has a nagging suspicion there’s something bad going on.

"Dean?" he addresses him softly. Dean looks up. The green of his eyes will never cease to amaze Cas. Dean’s look is soft, vulnerable, almost pleading.

"Tell me what you need, Dean."

"I want you to-" he stops himself, his eyes dart away. "I need you to take me. To use me. Please." He looks up and his begging eyes threaten to knock Cas off his feet.

He steps closer and cups Dean’s cheek in his hand. "Alright, I’ll do that."

Dean visibly relaxes.

"But I have a condition."

Dean nods, his expression serious like they’re talking business.

"I’m gonna use you like you’re nothing but a warm hole to fuck.  Is that what you want?"

The sub nods, his cheeks redden a little.

"But afterward you are going to let me take care of you and we are going to talk about what’s bothering you, alright?"

Dean drops his eyes to the floor. There’s a long silence. Cas starts to fear that he will have to coax Dean into admitting that he has a problem, but Dean finally looks up.

"Okay."

Castiel smiles his business smile and shrugs off his jacket. "Get up."

When Dean obeys, Castiel places his palm on the back of his neck and leads him towards the coffee table. He shoves the few things on it into a drawer before he orders. "On the table, hands and knees."

Dean hesitates, but he must realize the table is solid wood and it’s gonna hold because he climbs on top of it as he’s been told.

Cas takes in the elegant curve of his back, the round cheeks of his ass. He licks his lips and rolls his sleeves up.

 

The wood of the table is cold and hard under Dean’s knees. He’s a bit cold and Cas is taking too long to start. Waiting drives Dean crazy and the Dom knows it.

When Dean finally feels the warm touch of Cas’ hands, he startles. Cas doesn’t comfort him, his hand doesn't slide across the planes of Dean’s naked skin as usual. He grabs him rather harshly. He pushes Dean’s asscheeks apart, revealing his pink asshole and spits at it. Dean huffs out a breath and squeezes his eyes shut as Cas starts to work the wetness pass his rim with two fingers. It’s perfunctory, cold, a bit humiliating. Exactly what Dean needs. He feels his mind slipping away from him, his consciousness focusing on the physical sensations.

When Cas is satisfied with his job of opening Dean up, he stands up and walks around the table. He stops in front of Dean’s face.

"Open your mouth." Dean complies watching Cas’ hands as he opens the zipper of his pants and pushes his boxers down. Dean’s heart beats fast and blood rushes to his groin as Cas’s fingers wrap around his half-hard cock and he pushes it into Dean’s waiting mouth. Cas lets out a barely audible sigh that makes Dean shiver with want. He sucks hard and feels Cas harden in his mouth.

When Cas grabs Dean’s hair and pulls him back, they are both hard and throbbing. Dean listens to Cas’ footsteps on the carpet as he returns behind him. Strong fingers dig into Dean’s skin as Cas gets a hold on Dean’s hip.

He enters Dean mercilessly, but Dean manages to grind his teeth and keep the cry in.

There’s no gentle touching, no kisses on the back of his neck, no sweet breathless words of praise. There are just hard thrusts, relentless rhythm and the slap of skin against skin. And that’s right because Dean isn’t a lover tonight, he’s nothing but a fucktoy. Fucktoys don’t have feelings, they don’t have fucked up fathers and little brothers to take care of and bills to pay. Their only purpose is to serve their master, to bring him pleasure. The little grunts Cas lets out and the hitches in his movement let Dean know that he’s being successful in that. It makes him buzz pleasantly, makes him feel worthy of Cas’ cock and that’s all that matters right now.

Cas’ groans turn into moaning and his hips move harder and faster, there’s no rhythm to speak of anymore, it’s just a wild chase of climax.

It’s almost too hard, too fast for Dean, but he doesn’t care, his pleasure is building up too.

One hand squeezing Dean’s shoulder, forehead pressed against Dean’s sweaty back, Cas comes with a muffled cry. It’s hot and wet and it makes Dean let out his own desperate sound. He drops on his elbows and rests his head on the smooth wood when Cas pulls out. He moans when Cas cleans him up with a kleenex but doesn’t protest when he’s dragged down off the table and into Cas’ arms.

Castiel is sitting on the floor, back against the couch, cradling Dean’s body against his chest. He presses soft kisses to Dean’s sweat-damp hair, his temple, his neck. It’s soft and warm and so comfortable especially in contrast to kneeling on a table and being fucked hard. Dean realizes he’s making soft purring sounds, but he doesn’t stop, just curls himself closer to Cas.

Cas’ hands travel all over Dean’s body until one of them finds his still hard cock and starts to stroke it slowly.

Dean mewls and throws his head back. His lips find Cas’ and when Cas whispers "come" Dean does so moaning into Cas’ mouth.

They stay in comfortable silence for a long time, just holding each other, sharing soft touches.

Eventually, Cas gets up to bring some drinks and snacks and Dean crawls on the couch and wraps a soft blanket around himself. When Cas returns, Dean lets him into his cocoon and accepts a bottle of beer and a bag of Cheetos from him.

"So? What happened?" Castiel breaks the silence.

Dean doesn’t answer, worrying the label on his beer bottle with his fingernail. Cas leans closer and nuzzles at his neck.

"Dean, I know there’s something bothering you. Please talk to me," he says softly and Dean has to appreciate that he’s not using the fact that he promised to tell the truth against him.

"It’s just... too much shit at once," Dean says and takes a sip. He occupies his hands with opening the bag as he continues. "I’m not doing very well financially and-" The words stuck in his throat, he can’t get them out. Cas waits patiently. The feeling of the weight of the whole world laying on Dean’s shoulders is back, but this time he is leaning on Cas and that makes him hope he might not crumble.

"My dad attempted suicide last night," he says sounding as hollow as he feels.

Cas straightens next to him. "Oh my god, Dean, that’s ... how do you feel about it?"

Dean turns to look him in the face. He’s surprised by the question. He expected Cas to say how terrible it is, how sorry he’s for Dean and his dad. It would probably make him angry, the question just makes him confused. He doesn’t know, he didn’t actually try to decipher his feelings.

"Mad." He answers after a moment of contemplation. "Guilty, which only makes me even angrier because I know I shouldn’t feel guilty."

"You’re right about that, you shouldn’t," Cas nods and squeezes Dean’s shoulder a little in a show of support that Dean feels grateful for.

"It’s just... I don’t know why but it feels like being slapped in the face. It’s... look, John has always been a selfish prick but this is by far the most selfish thing he’s ever done."

"I get why you think so."

"But you don’t agree?"

"I think that when people go for suicide, they don’t do it out of selfishness."

Dean bites his lower lip. The truth is he has no idea what the fuck John was thinking when he did that.

"How is he now?" Cas asks and reaches for some of the Cheetos.

"He’s at ICU, stable."

"Are you going to visit him?"

"No."

Cas doesn’t try to convince him he should talk to John like the doctor did, he doesn’t even ask Dean why he doesn’t want to see him. He just chews slowly, then drinks his juice.

"Dean, I can’t help you with your father, but I might be able to help you with your financial situation."

"I don’t want your money," Dean barks.

"I’m not offering you any," Castiel retorts cooly.

Dean bows his head, ashamed for bursting out. "Sorry."

"It’s okay, I know you’re stressed out."

Dean looks at him and for a moment he thinks he might choke on all the affection he feels for the man.

"Move in with me," Cas says and Dean forgets how to breathe.

"What?"

"You already spend more time here than in your apartment. It’s closer to your work so you wouldn’t have to drive there."

"I-uh-I don’t know. Are you sure? I have a lot of stuff and I’m messy and we haven’t known each other for that long."

Cas squeezes Dean’s shoulder. "This place is big enough, I’m sure you can fit in with all your stuff."

The truth is Dean’s whole apartment could fit into Cas’ twice, but the idea of moving in is just too scary and there are too many things to consider. If Cas thought he would relieve some of Dean’s stress, he was wrong. His offer just added some.

"Yeah but-"

"But what, Dean? What other excuse do you have?"

"Sam." It’s not a lie, it was the first thing that came to his mind when Cas made him the offer.

"What about him?" Cas asks sounding like he’s running out of patience.

"He stays at my place when he visits me."

"Well, he can stay here, the couch is-"

"I know," Dean interrupts him. "The problem isn’t that he couldn’t sleep on your couch instead of mine but... He doesn’t know of you."

Cas’ face darkens as he realizes where Dean is going with that.

"And if he were to stay here you’d have to tell him about us."

"Yeah."

Castiel turns away. He doesn’t say anything, but Dean can tell he’s angry. He can see it in the hard line of his jaw.

"What? You told me you wouldn’t push me to come out."

"I’m not, but it doesn’t mean I have to enjoy being your dirty little secret!"

"It’s not-" He’s taken aback by Cas’ outward anger, by his accusation. And he just can’t do it right now. "You know what? I have to go." He throws away the blanket and gets up.

"Dean, wait!" Cas tries to catch his arm but Dean is already leaving.

He throws on his clothes as fast as he can and slams the door behind himself.

 

He doesn’t drive but walks instead. The streets are dark and empty and the cool air calms him down a little. He walks and walks and thoughts chase each other in his head like crazed dogs. He pulls out his phone without stopping.

"Dean, hey!"

"Hello, Sammy. How ya doin’?"

"I’m fine, thanks. I have an exam tomorrow but I’m sure you’re not calling to talk about that."

Dean chuckles softly. "No, I’m not."

"What is it then?" Sam asks trying not to sound worried and failing. Dean feels a bit guilty for calling him only when something’s wrong.

Dean takes a deep breath gathering courage to say all the things he needs to get off his chest. _This is Sam_ , he tells himself, _it’s going to be alright._

"I’m thinking about moving in with someone and I’m freaking out a little bit." 

"Why would you...oh! You mean move in like- not like just roommates. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend."

Dean stops and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I don’t"

"W-"

"I have a boyfriend."

" _Oh_."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, uhm, I’m surprised."

"Yeah." Dean’s heart feels heavy in his chest.

"I mean I’m not surprised that you are into guys-"

"You aren’t?"

"No. Dean, come on, I’m your brother, I know you. I know that when you sneaked out in the middle of a night it wasn’t always with a girl."

Dean stares at the dark wet ground under his feet, his heart beating against his breastbone like a caged animal trying to fight its way out.

"Does dad know?"

"I don’t think so."

"Okay." He hates himself for even giving a damn about that.

"See, that’s it. That’s why I’m surprised. You kept it in secret and I thought with guys it was... just about sex? I don’t know. I just didn’t expect you to come out to me by telling me you have a serious boyfriend, but I’m happy for you, I really am, Dean."

"Yeah," Dean breathes out. "I guess I’m a bit surprised myself." He spots a bench and drops down on it hiding his face in his palm.

"So uhm, is he... is he good to you?"

An inevitable smile tugs at the corners of Dean’s lips. "He’s very good to me. I think you’d like him. He’s such a nerd. He even does yoga!"

Sam chuckles. "Where did you meet a man like that?"

"Uhm he... he came to my shop."

"Oh yeah, I see. You said you are freaking out about moving in with him. Why?"

Dean sighs and runs his hand through his hair. "I don’t even know, man. It makes sense for me to move in. I know he was right when he listed all the advantages, but... it just feels like such a big deal, you know?"

"I can imagine that. But I hope you’re not gonna chicken out of it."

"Yeah uhm... I hope I didn’t actually fuck the chance up." Saying it out loud makes Dean’s chest tighten with anxiety.

"What do you mean?" He can imagine Sam’ frown.

"I kinda told him no at first? Blamed it on you not knowing I’m with a guy. He got pissed  and I ran off."

"Oh my god, Dean."

"Yeah, I might have overreacted."

"I’d say."

"Fine, I’m an idiot, everybody knows that."

"Dean, you’re not an idiot. This is an unfamiliar situation for you and it _is_ kind of a big deal. It’s understandable that you freaked out. And if he’s the right person you should live with, he’s gonna understand it too."

"I hope so."

"Dean-"

"What?"

"You shouldn’t have been scared of telling me." Sam sounds sad and Dean can bet he’s having those puppy dog eyes going on that make Dean weak.

"I know." He says and he tries to make it sound like _sorry_.

"I get why you kept it in secret from dad, but it always kind of hurt that you didn’t tell me. I’m not him."

"I know, Sam. I’m sorry." He means it. Now when the big secret is out he realizes how stupid it was to keep it in the first place. That the obstacle was only in his mind, not in his brother. Part of him wishes he’d come out earlier, part of him is just happy that he did. He didn’t realize how much the secret weighed on him.

He thinks about John being the main reason he’s felt ashamed for being who he is and his chest constricts. He takes a deep breath to steel himself before he speaks again.

"Sam, there’s something else I have to tell you. It’s about John."

"What is it? Is he in trouble? I hope you’re not sending him more money."

"He attempted (a) suicide."

The silence that falls after that is as heavy as a mountain.

"Doesn’t sound like John," Sam says finally. Dean isn’t surprised by the hard coldness in Sam’s voice. If there’s someone who despises John Winchester more than Dean, it’s Sammy.

"Yeah, I thought that too. I talked to his therapist. She wants me to talk to him."

"Are you going to?"

"I don’t want to."

"Dean, please, don’t do it just because you think it’s the right thing to do. That man doesn’t deserve it." Dean doesn’t respond. There’s a turmoil in his head and he can’t sort out his thoughts. "But if you think it would make _you_ feel better, then you should go."

Dean sighs. "I think I need some time to think about it. And I want to focus on moving in with Cas now."

"That’s right," Sam says with an audible smile in his tone. "I’m really happy for you, Dean. I hope I can meet the man soon."

"Just come. I bet he’s curious about you, I told him all the awkward childhood stories."

Sam huffs out a laugh. "You did not."

"I’m going to before you come."

"After the finals, okay?"

"Fine."

"Fine. Goodbye, bitch."

"Bye, jerk."

Dean smiles at the phone before he pockets it. There’s a warm feeling in his chest and a spark of hope that everything’s going to be alright. Well maybe not everything, but the things that matter the most.

* * *

 

For the second time in two days, Castiel is surprised to see Dean.

"Hey."

"Hello, Dean."

"May I come in?" Cas blinks at him, stupidly, he has a hard time processing words.

"Yeah, uhm, sure, come in." He steps to the side so Dean can enter the hallway and close the door behind himself.

"I, uhm, here." He produces a small bouquet of flowers and shoves it at Cas. Castiel thinks he must be dreaming. He takes the flowers and presses them to his chest awkwardly. At least he has something to look at other than Dean’s face.

"Thank you," he mutters.

"I’m sorry."

Cas looks up at him.

"For acting out like that. For running away."

"Oh." He doesn’t know what to say so he turns away and walks to the living room where he searches for a vase to put the flowers in. Dean follows him. Cas can feel his eyes on him and realizes that he doesn’t look presentable at all. He’s wearing nothing but yoga pants, he’s all sweaty and he didn’t sleep well last night without Dean next to him so the dark circles under his eyes must be good enough to play in a teenage vampire movie. He’s been doing yoga all morning to keep his mind off the fact that he’s alone on a weekend for the first time in months.

"Sam can’t wait to meet you." Castiel almost drops the crystal vase. He puts it down before he turns at Dean.

"What?"

"I told him about you and he’s excited to get to know you."

Cas can feel his jaw drop.

Dean steps closer, but he does so carefully as if not to scare Cas away.

"Cas, I get it if you want to withdraw the offer because of how I acted yesterday, but if it stays... I’d love to move in with you."

Castiel just stares at him.

"Cas?" worry draws deep lines on Dean’s pretty face. Part of Cas wants to do anything to make them disappear, the other part is so fascinated by them he can’t make himself do anything.

Dean lets out a sigh and it’s as if his whole body crumbles into itself. He starts to turn away.

"I didn’t think you’d come back," Cas blurts out. Dean aborts the movement in the middle and looks back. He seems as surprised as Cas felt when he saw him at his door. "We never fight. I didn’t... I didn’t know what it meant when you left like that. I... I was so scared."

"Oh god, Cas." Dean takes a long stride toward Cas, grabs his shoulders and pulls him into a fierce hug. Cas goes limb in his arms, doesn’t hug back, but he rests his cheek on Dean’s shoulder.

"If I ever wanted to break up with you, I wouldn’t do it like that. I promise. You deserve better."

Castiel wants to yell at him that it’s not comforting at all, but he doesn’t have the energy. Besides he’s not going to move away from the comforting warmth of Dean’s embrace and yelling in this position would be awkward.

"I’m sorry I walked away. I needed to sort my thoughts out. I didn’t want to fight... I’m sorry I scared you."

Cas finally wraps his arms around Dean’s back and Dean presses a kiss to his temple.

"So you told your brother about me?"

"I did." Castiel can’t see the proud grin on Dean’s face but he’s sure it’s there.

"And you want to move in?"

"If you still want me to."

Cas pulls away just far enough so he can look Dean in the eyes. "Of course I do."

The happy sparkle in Dean’s eyes is warm enough to melt all the ice that has formed in Cas’ chest since last night.

Dean cups Cas’ cheek with his hand. "May I kiss you?"

"Please do."

Castiel wonders if they have ever kissed like that. It’s the kind of kiss that speaks. The kind of kiss that says more than a million _I’m sorries_ and _it’s gonna be okays._

They put the flowers into water then go to the bedroom. They spend a long time just cuddling and worshipping each other’s bodies. Then Dean climbs on top of Cas and rides him sweet and slow. Cas lets him do all the hard work and just holds on to him staring deeply into his eyes until the pleasure overpowers them and they come almost in unison.

 


	12. Different Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I'm surprised too

"Dean is moving in with me," Castiel says, staring at the ceiling as he lies on Meg’s bed.

"Wow," Meg says with no sign of excitement. Cas turns to look at her, studying her face. She seems fully focused on filing Cas’ nails.

"No lecture about me moving too fast and risking my heart getting broken?" he asks.

She cocks one dark eyebrow. "Are you afraid of getting your heart broken?"

Cas hesitates. He remembers the terrible feeling when Dean has left his apartment in the middle of a fight.

"I guess there’s always a chance of a relationship ending badly."

She drops his hand, rolling her eyes. "That’s not what I asked, Clarence."

Cas thinks about it. About the warm feeling he got when he watched Dean carry paper boxes over the threshold. Of course the idea of breaking up with Dean makes him scared. But does he feel like Dean’s going to hurt him?

He shakes his head. "I’m not scared. I’m excited."

"Good. So when am I going to meet him?"

Cas bursts out laughing. Meg looks at him like he’s lost his mind.

"What’s so funny about that?"

"Nothing. But Claire asked me the same thing the other day. Seems like everybody’s impatient to meet my boyfriend."

"And you are surprised by that? I never expected you to get into a serious relationship ever again, so how can you expect me to not be curious about the man that barged into your life and changed everything?"

"He didn’t... Did you really think that? That I’d be alone for the rest of my life?" For some reason, the idea kind of hurts. It was one thing to lose hope about himself but for her to think the same... it made the possibility more real.

She heaves a sigh. "Cas, I was the one holding you up when you broke down after Bart. I know your body has recovered but I wasn’t sure about your heart. And you seemed perfectly well on your own."

He did, didn’t he? And he  _ thought _ he was doing alright. But now when he’s with Dean he sees how much he’s been missing. Dean really has changed Cas’ life a lot.

Cas looks up at Meg with a surge of anxiety tightening his chest. "What if I fuck up?"

"You said you weren’t scared."

He shakes his head.

"I said I wasn’t scared of getting my heart broken but what if... what if I’m the one who ruins everything? What if... what if I get too controlling? I already slipped the other day! Oh my god, Meg, what if I turn into Bartholomew!"

She grabs his wrist and squeezes hard offering comfort in a strange but effective way. "Cas, calm the fuck down. You’ll never be like Bart because you’re not a sociopath."

"Am I not?" It almost scares him how genuine the doubt is. He’s been called sick before for engaging in BDSM activities. He’s been told he’s a pervert.

"Of course not, Clarence. You are a good guy. The best I know." She says it like she’s placating a very annoying child. It makes Cas snort a little.

"You don’t know a lot of good guys."

"Shut up!" she hits him with a pillow. "I was trying to say something nice to you, I might change my mind if you keep interrupting me."

Castiel laughs. "Fine, go on."

"You are good and caring and tender and the boy should be grateful to have you. You might make mistakes sometimes because you’re a human, but you’re intelligent enough to sort things out when problems come."

"Do you really think that?"

She rolls her eyes. "No, I’m just telling you so you’ll stop whining!"

Cas laughs. She grabs his hand again and readies the file. "I’m gonna paint your nails pink."

"No! Why?"

"Because you’re being dumb."

"I’m not!" he tries to wrench his hand out of her grip but she’s strong.

"You’re so mean."

"Hi. I’m Meg, I’m a demon." 

Castiel grabs a pillow and throws it at her face.

* * *

 

Dean frowns when he hears the doorbell ring. 

"You expecting someone?" he asks Vergilius, the guinea pig. He doesn’t answer.

"Maybe Cas forgot the keys?" Dean puts down his comic book and walks to the hallway. 

He opens the door and blinks in disbelief at the small figure. "Claire?"

"Hey," she sniffs and looks up at him. Her eyes are red-rimmed from crying but she puts on a tough mask. "Can I talk to Cas?"

"He’s not home."

"Where is he?" she asks, looking almost panicked.

"He’s at Meg’s, uhm, his friend."

"I know Meg." Her tone tells him that he’s stupid for forgetting she’s been part of Cas’ life for much longer than Dean.

"Come in. I will tell him to come back. You can wait for him," Dean offers.

She looks uncertain as if considering if Dean’s safe. At last, she steps in.

"I have some meatballs in the freezer and I was going to make mashed potatoes and gravy. Sounds good?"

"Yeah." She rubs her face with a sleeve of her hoodie. "Can I help?"

"Do you know how to peel potatoes?"

She rolls her eyes and walks into the kitchen. Dean sends Cas a brief text and follows her. By the time he enters the kitchen she’s already putting out pans apparently familiar with the kitchen.

They work in silence. Dean turns on some music and she nods into the rhythm, looking content. He’s not going to push her to tell him what’s wrong. He remembers Sam at this age. He always opened up when given space.

"So you live here now?" Claire asks while the potatoes are boiling.

"Yeah, we decided it would be better this way."

She nods. Dean gets a can of coke from the fridge and hands it to her. She thanks him silently.

"You have a bookstore, right?"

"Books, records, comics. All the good stuff."

"Cool."

"You could stop by sometime. It’s close from here. I’d give you fifteen percent off as family."

She makes a face. "Make that at least thirty. I have a huge influence on Cas."

Dean chuckles. "Okay, okay. Thirty then."

She hides her smile behind the can.

"So do you cook with your mom often?" He knows he’s stepping into a dangerous territory, but he hopes she’s warmed up to him enough.

"Not really." Claire turns away from him.  "But sometimes I have to cook for myself," she adds as she checks if the potatoes are done even though they both know it’s too soon.

"Yeah, I know something about that. My father... he wasn’t really present so I often had to take care of myself and my little brother. I can put together something edible, but I never got very good at it. Not like your uncle."

"Yeah, Cas is good. Better than Mom actually."

Dean nods and gets the butter to start the gravy.

"What about your mom?"

"What?" he looks at her from the stove. She’s leaning against the counter, cradling her coke can. She reminds him of someone.

"You said your dad wasn’t there to take care of you. Where was your mom?"

"She died when I was four."

Claire narrows her eyes but doesn’t say anything.

"Sammy, my brother was just a baby. My dad... it broke his heart. He started drinking."

"Stop it."

"What?"

"Stop feeding me your sob story to make yourself relatable." She looks angry all of a sudden.

"I’m not-"

"Is it even real or did you make it up? I’m sure uncle Cassie told you about what happened to my family. So now you spin a story about  _ your _ parents so that what? So that I like you? That’s pathetic."

"You asked!"

He realizes he raised his voice a bit too much when he sees her shocked expression.

"But you are right. Almost. I’m telling you because I want you to know that we have something in common. It’s not something I usually spill in front of strangers, you know?".

He pours hot water into the pan and stirs the gravy not looking at the girl, who remains silent.

"I thought you might want to know there’s someone who knows how it feels when you desperately need your parent but they’re too deep in their own grief."

He adds seasoning and only when he thinks he’s done he looks at the girl. She’s motionless, head bowed and arms crossed over her chest.

"Does she drink?" Dean asks softly.

Clair nods and for a moment Dean thinks that’s it, but then she starts talking.

"She came home drunk today. I hate it. She always talks bullshit about Dad and me and uncle Cas. Sometimes she breaks things. Usually, she passes out on the floor in the end. I just can’t stand it." Her voice breaks a little on the last words. Dean doesn’t have to see her face to know she’s crying again.

He steps closer to her. "It’s good that you came here."

She looks up at him with cheeks streaked with tears. He places a hand on her shoulder and she reluctantly leans against him. He can feel her shaking against his chest as he strokes her back while she sobs quietly.

* * *

 

Cas is breathing heavily as he races to the door. When he read Dean’s text that Claire came looking upset he downright panicked. He doesn’t know what he expects when he opens the door but it’s not the sounds of some action movie coming out of the living room. His insides do some weird somersault when he sees Dean and Claire sitting side by side on the couch eating M&Ms from one bowl and laughing at something on the TV.

"Hey, Cas!" Claire greets him. She doesn’t look distressed at all.

"Hey, babe. Your dinner is in the microwave. Sorry, we didn’t wait, we were hungry."

"Dean is a better cook than he thinks," Claire says.

"Yeah, I know," Cas mutters still taken aback by the sight of the two of them being so comfortable around each other.

"Hurry up or you’ll miss the best part." Claire prompts him.

When he settles down next to Dean with his plate on his thighs, Dean wraps an arm around his shoulders and leans in to kiss Cas’ cheek.

"Thank you," Cas whispers. Dean just smiles and keeps watching the movie.

 

Castiel sends Amelia a text saying that Claire is staying the night while Dean pulls out the couch and Claire brings the extra blankets from a closet in the bedroom. She makes herself a nest and lets Cas kiss her cheek before they leave her alone.

"So how did it go?" Cas asks as they get into the bed. "She can be difficult when she’s upset."

"Well I’m not saying it was all sparkles and rainbows but eventually we found common ground."

"You told her about your parents?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Thank you again, Dean, it means a lot."

"I didn’t do it for you. I mean... I’d do it even if she wasn’t related to you."

"I know and it makes you even more awesome."

Dean chuckles and pulls Cas into his arms.

"Cas? Why don’t you convince Amelia to go to rehab?"

Castiel sighs heavily. "She won’t listen to me. Me and Amelia... we aren’t very close."

"Yeah sorry, I just remembered Claire mentioning that she talks shit about you."

Cas huffs out a laugh. "Yeah, I bet she does. You know it must be hard for her to talk to me when I look just like Jimmy. And she kind of blames me for Claire and her being on their own."

"She blames you for your brother’s death?"

"No. Not that. But my parents... Jimmy was a perfect opposite of me. When I rebelled, he lived up to our parents’ expectations." When Cas told him about that part of his life, Dean didn’t think about where his twin brother was in all that. "He married early because you know premarital sex and all that jazz and had Claire soon. It made our parents happy and they loved Amelia. Jimmy became a minister and lived exactly as they wanted him to. The only time he disobeyed was when they disowned me and wanted him to cut me off."

"So they disowned him too?"

"Basically. You know he didn’t agree with the stuff I was doing but he saw me as someone who needed help, not someone who deserved punishment. It was actually him who paid for my rehab."

"I’m glad you had a good brother even though your parents were shitty."

"Yeah. Jimmy was good. Sometimes I think it should have been me."

Dean tightens his arms around him as if to shelter him from the terrible thought. "Don’t say that!"

"Anyway. My parents cut Jimmy and his family off. They came to Jimmy’s funeral. Didn’t speak a word to me or Amelia. Just gave Claire a letter she wasn’t supposed to show us."

"I bet she did."

"Of course she did. It was full of religious bullshit and they offered to take her in. They also wrote that they had opened a savings account for her and have been sending her money ever since she was born. That’s all they know how to do, send money."

"So Amelia’s mad at you because she doesn’t have their financial support?"

"I think it’s a part of it, yeah."

"That’s fucked up. All of it. I’m so sorry Cas. But Claire is lucky to have you."

"Maybe. Maybe if she didn’t, Amelia would have to care."

"No, that’s not how it works, trust me."

Castiel rolls to his side and places his cheek on Dean’s chest. "I’m lucky to have you."

Dean smiles and runs his hand through Cas’ hair.

* * *

 

In the morning, Dean drives Claire home.

"Should I go in with you?" he asks when he stops in front of the house.

She shakes her head looking out the window. "It’s okay."

"Fine."

"Thank you," she says it so softly Dean almost misses it. 

He looks at her in surprise. "You’re welcome."

The silence is a bit awkward, but Claire still doesn’t move to leave the car.

"Look, I just want you to know that you have a safe space at Cas’ even though I live there now."

"I know. Thanks."

"Okay. So just... come whenever you need to. And don’t forget to stop by the shop. I was serious about that too."

She shoots him a smile, uncharacteristically shy for her. "I will."

He watches her walk to the door and take a deep breath before she enters.

* * *

 

Living with Cas allows Dean to see things he wasn’t able to notice before. Like how he sometimes picks up the photo of his brother and stares at it silently as if he’s having a silent conversation or how he actually talks to the damn guinea pig. Dean hears Claire cry over the phone sometimes and see how exhausted Cas comes back from work and how he frowns at emails from his boss. He watches him do yoga or sit still for long minutes in the meditation corner of his. They talk more - about mundane everyday things. They also spend more time in silence - each of them minding their own business but sharing the same space.

It’s nice, complex. Before, the relationship was like his comfortable t-shirt that he puts on when he wants to. Now it’s like his own skin - the most natural thing and present all the time.

 

Castiel looks like hell. Dean has seen him tired, but not like this. He drops his briefcase in the hallway and almost topples as he tries to get his shoes off. The haunted look in his eyes gives away that his exhaustion is as much mental as it is physical.

"Hey, babe. I made dinner." Dean greets him and helps him get out of his coat and jacket.

"I’m sorry, Dean, I don’t feel like eating anything. I’m going straight to bed."

Dean frowns and grabs his shoulder. Castiel looks at him, surprised.

"Cas, you look terrible. Let’s have a shower, it will make you feel better. Then you should eat a little and go to bed."

Cas bows his head with a heavy sigh. "Dean-"

Dean steps even closer and brushes gentle fingers over the nape of Cas’ neck.

"Let me take care of you," he says softly.

Cas shakes his head. "Dean, you don’t have to-"

"I want to. I’m your partner, Cas. You take care of me all the time. Now you need some spoiling so stop being difficult and just accept what I’m giving."

Cas smiles a little and nods. He lets Dean lead him to the bathroom and undress him quickly. He stays under the spray of water, swaying a little until Dean joins him and wraps his arms around him. He spreads lather over Cas’ back, working out the kinks in his muscles, enjoying the happy sounds he elicits. He proceeds by washing Cas’ hair, scratching his scalp gently. Cas moans and leans into the touch. Dean chuckles and kisses his neck. He rinses the shampoo out and makes Castiel turn. They kiss long and slow, Dean’s hands chase the waterdrops down Cas’ skin. Cas gasps a little when he’s shoved against the wet tiles.

He drops to his knees and takes Cas into his mouth. Cas moans, throwing his head back. Dean steadies him by grabbing his hips because Cas looks like his knees are going to give up on him.

Dean takes his time worshipping Cas’ cock with his lips and tongue, keeping him on the edge. Only when Cas’ whole body starts to shake and he’s making animalistic, desperate sounds, his hands clawing at Dean’s shoulders and neck, does Dean bring him to climax. He gets up and lets Cas kiss his own taste off his mouth lazily. Cas is all but boneless, barely keeping his eyes open, as Dean helps him out of the shower and rubs him dry with a soft towel.

"You sure you don’t wanna eat anything?"

"I had a sandwich at work," Cas mutters against Dean’s shoulder.

Dean lets him drop on the bed and crawls next to him. Cas puts up just a little resistance when Dean manhandles him into being the small spoon.

"Why do you do a job you hate?" he asks nuzzling at Cas’ neck.

"I told you I like the job," Cas answers, his words a little slurred with sleepiness.

"But you hate your boss. I bet there are other companies looking for accountants."

"Dean," Cas moans.

"Okay, sleep, but I’m not leaving this. We’re going to talk about it tomorrow."

Cas murmurs something incoherent and wiggles closer to Dean. In a minute he’s deep asleep.

 

They don’t talk about it the next day because the next day Cas calls to tell him  that he’s going to sleep at work.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Dean-"

"Don’t you  _ Dean _ me!" Dean retorts mimicking Cas’ tone. It usually works on him but not today. "You are a friggin accountant! Aren’t you supposed to work nine to five? I’m going to start thinking you are cheating on me."

"You know that’s not the case. It’s Adler-"

"Well, fuck Adler! You know what? You said you don’t hate your job, but  _ I do! _ "

"Dean!"

"I do! Because if I hadn’t moved in with you I wouldn’t have seen you at all these past days. This way I only see you in bed and you are so tired it’s as if you weren’t there at all."

"I’m sorry."

Dean heaves a sigh. "Don’t be sorry. Do something about it."

"I can’t do anything about it tonight."

"Fine, stay in your stupid work. I’m gonna throw a party in your fancy apartment and I’m gonna leave it messy."

Cas huffs out a weak laugh. "Alright, I deserve that."

"We’re gonna burn all your incense."

"Alright."

"Try to get at least some sleep and make sure you eat something."

"I will, Dean."

"Bye, Cas."

 

"Holy macaroni! This is incredible!" Charlie exclaims as she spins around in the middle of Cas’- of their living room.

Dean grins at her. "I told you it’s pretty fancy." 

"Yeah, but it’s so  _ cool." _ She runs to the yoga corner but stops before the mandala divider. She peeks behind it reverently like entering a real chapel. "Oh, you weren’t kidding about this either."

"Yeah, that’s where he does yoga and meditates and that stuff."

"He really sounds interesting. I can’t wait to meet him."

"Yeah well, that’s not happening anytime soon," Dean says bitterly and flops down on the couch.

"Why?" Charlie asks a bit distractedly as she looks at Cas’ shelves. Some of the stuff Cas collected over the years he’s living here has disappeared recently to make space for Dean’s own stuff but there’s still a lot of stuff to see. Little figurines of mythical creatures, ancient-looking daggers, and other little artifacts.

"Because of his super-boring job and mega-asshole of a boss," he answers as he grabs the remote control. 

"He’s (a) white-collar, right?" She sits next to him but her eyes are still roaming over the room.

"Accountant. He likes the job, but he slaves away there."

"Can’t he find another place? People need accountants, don’t they?"

Dean sighs and runs his hand over his face. "Yeah, that’s what I said! But he won’t listen. I yelled at him a bit today when he told me he’s not going to come home tonight."

She gives him a sympathetic look. "Well, maybe he’s going to change his mind after that."

"I seriously hope so. But enough about that. Let’s have a drink."

"Yes, sir!" Charlie grins and mock-salutes.

 

"Dean? Who’s the hot chick on your boyfriend’s wall?" She asks when they pause the movie to refill their glasses and bowls with snacks.

"That’s Meg. His best friend. And if you’re gonna ask yes I’m a bit jealous, but Cas is gay so-" he shrugs.

"So? It’s still a bit weird that he has her here now when you live here, don’t you think?" She rips a bag of peanuts open with her teeth.

"I’m not gonna ask him to get rid of it. I felt bad enough when he put away some of his other stuff to make space for me."

"Maybe he could sell it to me. It would look great in my bedroom." Charlie says looking at the photo a bit dreamily.

Dean chuckles. "What about Gilda. She wouldn’t mind?"

Charlie makes a sour face. "Ugh me and Gilda, we kinda aren’t a thing anymore."

"What? What happened?"

"Nothing, just... we kind of drifted away. I guess we were too different. Sometimes I think we were from entirely different realms."

"I see. But why didn’t you tell me? We could have drunk ourselves numb or eat pints of ice-cream or something like that."

She shrugs. "I don’t know. You looked like you had enough on your mind."

He frowns feeling a twist of guilt in his gut.

"Charlie, for god’s sake. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t listen! You’re my friend! My best friend. The little sister I never-"

"Stop it!" she giggles and throws a peanut at him.

"Hey! You’re making a mess in my fancy apartment!"

* * *

 

"What is it?" Cas asks leaning over the back of the couch so he can look over Dean’s shoulder at the screen of his laptop. "Collars? Dean! Are you searching for a collar?"

"I-uh!" Dean grunts when Cas climbs over the back of the couch and drops next to him almost knocking the laptop off his knees.

"Why didn’t you tell me you’d like me to collar you? Show me what you found!" Cas says excitedly and leans closer.

Dean smiles softly. He hasn’t seen Cas so light-hearted in days.

"I wasn’t sure you’d be on board with it. I was really just looking-"

"Of course I’m on board. I’d love it." He kisses Dean’s neck, making him shiver. "Do you want to choose for yourself or is it up to me?"

"What if I show you what I like and you make the final decision?"

"Okay!"

They choose a simple leather collar in dark brown with green padding. It’s custom-made and Dean hates the price but Cas insists on getting it for him.

"And what’s  _ that _ ?" Cas frowns when he closes the tab and a page with job advertisements shows up.

Dean tries to get the laptop away from him but Cas’ fastens his grip.

"I thought that maybe if I showed you that there  _ are _ other options, you’d finally consider leaving."

"Dean," Cas exhales rubbing his temples with his fingers.

Dean leans against him, nuzzling at his neck. "Please, Cas, promise me you’ll think about it. What is so special about that company anyway?"

"Honestly, I don’t know. I guess I’m just... too used to it. I’m even used to Zachariah being a dick."

"Does it feel scary to change the place?"

"Yeah," Cas sighs, but he feels a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as Dean puts the laptop aside and presses himself closer.

"Well, I think it’s time for you to do something crazy. I’ll be here to hold your hand." He says it in a way that suggests much more than just holding hands.

"Okay, I’ll think about it," Cas succumbs. He throws his head back making space for Dean’s lips and tongue that explore his skin.

"You’ll do it? For me?" Dean purrs, his hand sliding over the inside of Cas’ thigh.

Cas hums his confirmation before he grabs the back of Dean’s head and kisses him hungrily.

Dean moans softly when Cas presses him into the couch, but he remains pliant. A rag doll ready for Cas to play with. He tries to hide his shit-eating grin but only makes Cas the more riled up. He intends to make Dean scream, to make him pay in the sweetest way for manipulating Cas like this.

  
  



	13. Both Ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what! I´m still here and so is this story! It´s only thanks to your lovely comments, without them I´d have given up long ago. I hope you enjoy this chapter :) If you do, please let me know, it´s really important to me to know there are still people interested in this.
> 
> Spoilery warning at the end

Cas startles when the file falls on his desk. He looks up to see Adler.

"Again! You have to redo this _again!_ Maybe it's time you started paying attention to what you are doing. _"_ He doesn’t look angry, but smug. Like he’s actually happy that Cas has to spend more time on that stupid report. And that, the spiteful curve of Adler’s lips is the last straw. Cas gets up like in a dream, his body moving on its own volition. Before he can stop himself, the folder flies over the desk and merely misses Adler before it slams against the door.

"Maybe if you hadn’t given me the wrong data the first time it would  have been done correctly already."

Adler’s face turns beet red and he puffs up like an angry bird.

"How dare you-"

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up. I’m done! You can shove the report up your ass and all the others too."

"Have you lost your mind?"

"No, no." Cas laughs a bit hysterically. "No, I guess I’ve finally found some reason. I’ve been working my ass off, always did my best even though I got no appreciation from you. But I’m done now. I’m not letting you ruin my personal life." He laughs again, feeling unbearably lightheaded.

"So fuck you, Zachariah! I quit!"

Zachariah gapes at him like a fish out of water.

Cas grabs the photo of his family from his desk and heads to the door.

"You- you-you're gonna regret this!" Adler stutters when he finally finds his voice.

Cas grins at him as he walks backward through the door. "No, I’m really not."

* * *

 

  When Dean hears Cas opening the door he goes to the hallway.

"Cas? What are you doing here? I thought you were going to-"

Cas turns away from the coat hanger and shoots Dean a grin that looks a bit crazy.

"I quit!"

"What?"

Cas covers his face with his palms, laughing breathlessly. "I quit. I told Adler to go fuck himself."

Dean’s heart doubles its pace. He steps closer to Cas and draws his hands away from his face. "Really? Cas! Did you really do that?"

Castiel freezes, his face goes a bit blank as if he’s trying to remember something he did when he was drunk.

"I did. Fuck! Dean! I really did it."

A sharp laugh rips its way out of Dean’s throat and he throws his arms around Cas’ neck, squeezing the breath out of him.

"You crazy fucker! Oh my god! You are incredible, Cas!"

Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s waist and breathes heavily against Dean’s neck.

Dean feels like he might explode with all the giddiness he’s feeling

"Bed," Cas growls after a moment. He pulls away so he can look at Dean who frowns at him in confusion. "Bed. Right now. I need to fuck."

Dean chuckles. "Okay, okay!"

Cas all but drags him into the bedroom where he rips his clothes off with shaking hands, the whole time swearing at buttons. When he fumbles with his tie, Dean bats his hands away and takes care of it himself. It gives Cas time to calm down a little but there’s still simmering heat in his gaze as he watches Dean unbuckle his belt.

His kisses are bruising, all teeth and tongue.

The animalistic ferocity reminds Dean of their first night in his apartment. There have been glimpses of it later on but there’s never been the pure _need_ that he can see in his eyes now. This time he’s not afraid of the corresponding passion that flares up inside him. He’s not ashamed to accept everything that Cas wants to give to him.

_He lets Cas push him down on the bed. Cas’ hands automatically aim for the well-known places that make Dean moan._

_"Dean?" Cas says when they part to regain their breathing, " Have you ever done a sixty-nine?"_

_Dean feels his cock twitch at the idea of it. "With a girl, yeah, I did."_

_"I want that. I want to fuck your mouth and suck your cock at the same time."_

_"Okay, fine," Dean agrees breathlessly._

_When Cas gets them into the position he wants them in, Dean’s shaking with excitement. He takes Cas’ cock into his mouth eagerly, arms wrapped around Cas’ legs. He almost gets lost in his favorite feeling of Cas’ warm hard flesh on his tongue and almost chokes when he feels Cas’ wet lips close around the head of his cock. He has to pull off and take a breath as Cas takes him all the way in. He gets himself together and starts again. He bobs his head in an easy rhythm and sucks hard. It’s Cas’ turn to stop and just moan helplessly, but after a moment he resumes taking Dean apart with his tongue. It quickly turns into a competition._

_They are both trying to hold on as long as possible and at the same time trying to one-up each other in giving pleasure. And it’s hot, it’s fun, but Dean is not going to lose. That’s what makes him bold, what gives him the courage to do what he normally wouldn’t probably even think of doing. He tightens his hold on Cas’ thighs and uses the advantage of being taller. He hesitates a little at the sight of Cas’ hole but then he flicks his tongue out and drags it over the puckered skin._

_The shocked sound Cas chokes out is worth it and it encourages Dean to really dive into the action. It’s not bad, he hardly registers anything unpleasant because he’s fascinated by the effect it has on Cas. He’s_ writhing _and moaning as Dean licks and nibbles at his rim._

_And Dean wants more. So he sucks a finger into his mouth then carefully pushes it against Cas’ hole._

_"Dean!" Cas’ voice is rough as gravel and his tone might be confused for a warning, but Dean knows Cas too well. He pushes deeper. The sound it draws out from Cas makes something flutter in Dean’s stomach._

_"Yes, yes, Dean," Cas breathes out, rocking his hips gently against Dean’s hand, forcing his finger deeper. "Do it, fuck me with your fingers, come on."_

_Dean doesn’t need to be told twice. He pushes in and out, twisting and bending his finger. When he finally finds Cas’ prostate he smiles triumphantly as Cas bites down on his calf to muffle a cry. "More," he orders on an exhale. "More, Dean, come on. Open me up. Make me ready for your cock. I want your cock inside me."_

_Dean stills for a moment. All the blood from his brain leaving to his groin. He feels like he might come just like that, with Cas stroking him absentmindedly and talking about how he wants him inside._

_"Dean!" Cas calls impatiently and slaps Dean’s ass._

_There’s a moment of awkward fumbling before they get the lube. Dean’s intent on taking his time but Cas won’t have any of it. He urges Dean to go harder, deeper, add another finger._

_"Enough! This is killing me. On your back!"_

_He pushes Dean away and Dean watches him climb on top of him. He reaches for him to pull him into a kiss but Cas swats his hands away. "No. Your hands behind your head. Don’t move until I tell you to."_

_Dean nods realizing that even though the positions changed the roles did not. It only makes him more excited. He’s topped before but never subbed at the same time._

_Cas straddles him, slicking his cock with new-found patience. Dean watches him. He’s beautiful. That’s nothing new, of course, Dean always saw him as handsome and smokin’ hot but from this angle in this light the softness of his lips, his high cheeks, his long lashes, it’s all breathtaking. It’s a torture not being able to touch him._

_Cas guides Dean’s cock to his entrance and starts to lower himself on it. His face contorts with pain._

_"Cas," Dean’s hands twitch with an instinct to offer comfort, "are you okay?"_

_"Yeah, yeah. It’s just... it’s been a while," Cas answers between labored breaths._

_Dean thinks about it. When was the last time Cas let somebody fuck him? And was it anything like this?_

_Cas keeps lowering himself, taking Dean in inch by inch. His eyes are shut and his lips parted._

_Then he’s finally fully seated, his muscular thighs embracing Dean’s hips. He opens his eyes and looks down at Dean._

_"It’s so good," he says, voice low and rumbly, "you feel so good, Dean. Your big cock stretches me so well, makes me feel so full." As he speaks he runs his hand up his own chest, rubbing his nipple. "How does it feel to be inside me?"_

_Dean can barely breathe, speaking seems impossible. He swallows a few times, then tries to form a coherent reply._

_"Perfect. You are so hot, so thigh. Oh god, Cas, if you’re not gonna move soon I’m gonna die."_

_Cas chuckles, it sounds a bit cruel to Dean’s ears. He doesn’t move but strokes his own cock instead. "You’re gonna be a good boy and not come before me, right?"_

_"Yes, yes, please, Cas," his voice breaks as Cas rolls his hips. Dean moans so loud it drowns Cas’ matching moan._

_He rides Dean slowly. He leans down, his eyes boring into Dean, his hot breath brushing over Dean’s lips. Dean leans up for a kiss but he’s pushed down into the mattress._

_Dean is on a verge of begging but he can see it in Cas’ eyes that it would be in vain._

_He has to grit his teeth and clench the bedsheets to keep in control. It’s almost impossible not to move under Cas, not to push into his perfect body, not to pull him closer._

_After long deliciously torturous minutes of slow almost languid rhythm, Cas straightens and starts to bounce on top of Dean, hands propped against his chest. Dean marvels at the sight of his strong muscles shifting under his tanned skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. Cas moans and swears, absolutely unrestrained, enjoying himself._

_It’s when Dean’s almost sure he’s going to lose it that Cas looks down at him with lust-dark eyes. "Touch me," he growls, "fuck me, Dean."_

_Dean accepts it as a blessing. With arms wrapped around Cas’ waist, he cants his hips up to drive deep into Cas, eliciting an ecstatic cry. He runs his hands up Cas’ back, surprised by how soft and hot his skin feels after he’s been deprived of touching it. He pulls Cas in for a kiss and this time gets what he so desperately needs._

_"Dean," Cas growls. Dean doesn’t have to be prompted twice. With one hand on Cas’ hip and the other wrapped around his cock, he meets each of Cas’ moves down with a hard thrust up. Their moans and heavy breaths mingle into a symphony of pleasure. Cas’ whole body starts to shake when he’s close. Dean strokes him just right and Cas tenses - head_ thrown _back, lips agape - and shoots his load over Dean’s wrist and belly. Cas’ body clamping around his cock is one of the best feelings he’s ever experienced._

_When Cas comes back to his senses he grabs Dean’s hand and licks his come off Dean’s fingers. Dean whimpers. He needs to come. Cas leans down against Dean’s chest and licks into Dean’s mouth. "You can come now," he whispers with a wicked smile._

_Dean wraps his arms tightly around him, places his feet against the mattress and fucks him. Cas’ is pliant in his arms, head buried in the crook of his neck and moaning softly. When Dean fills him with his hot come, Cas cries out, his fingers dig into Dean’s skin, leaving red marks on his chest and shoulders._

_Castiel rolls off him with a tired chuckle. "Oh fuck that was GOOD!" he shouts at the ceiling. Dean grins at him. "Why haven’t we done that sooner?"_

_Dean shrugs. "Maybe we could do it more often?"_

_"Definitely. Are you okay?"_

_"More than okay. You?"_

_Cas shifts on the sheets experimentally. "Hmm. Definitely not gonna walk straight for a week."_

_"Cas, you idiot, you should have been more careful!" Dean chastises, actually feeling worried for him, but Cas just grins in_ the manic _way like when he exclaimed that he’d quit his job._

_"It was worth it." He pulls Dean closer and kisses his forehead._

_"Let's take a shower and order something to eat. I’m starving." He starts getting up, then drops back with a huff. "Okay, change of plan, you’re ordering food, I’m staying here, not moving."_

_Dean shakes his head, but he can’t stop smiling, endorphins rushing through his veins. He brings a wet washcloth and cleans Cas up while he lies with a forearm thrown over his eyes._

_"You coming inside me was amazing. It was_ first _time for me, you know?"_

_Dean’s heart flutters a little at that. He kisses Cas’ unexpecting lips. The soft smile that he gets in reward he wants to see every day for the rest of his life._

* * *

 

Something wakes Dean up entirely too early, but he doesn’t know what it is.

With his mind still hazy from sleep, Dean rolls on the bed and finds empty sheets instead of a warm body.

He blinks his eyes open. The room is gloomy, the sky behind the window is only starting to brighten, but Cas’ silhouette is stark enough against it. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, shoulders slouched, head bowed.

Dean reaches for him. Cas startles as Dean’s fingers brush his hip.

He looks at Dean and his expression makes Dean’s heart skip a beat. He looks terrible, devastated. For a moment, Dean thinks Cas regrets that he let him top, but he realizes what a stupid thought it is when Cas heaves a deep breath and speak, voice rough.

"I need to call Adler!" His eyes are wild, panicked. "I need to apologize!"

It wakes Dean up entirely. He sits up and shifts closer to Cas, squeezing his shoulder.

"No, Cas, come on, you can’t freak out, it was a great decision."

Castiel shakes his head frantically, then buries his hands in his hair. His breathing is unsteady and he’s shaking badly, his nails claw at the crook of his elbow, leaving red marks.

"I can’t, I can’t, I can’t," he mutters.

"Shh, shh, Cas, look at me." Dean has to shake him to get his attention. When Castiel looks at him, Dean’s breath hitches in his throat. He never saw him like this, never thought he would.

"What am I going to do? What if I can’t find a job? What if nobody wants me. I can’t do this, Dean, I can’t, I can’t!"

Dean has no idea what to do, but he knows he has to stop the destructive train of thought. He pulls Cas into his arms and squeezes him hard. Cas breathes out in a rush and buries his face in the crook of Dean’s neck.

He’s still shaking, but at least his breathing calms down. His hands curl in the fabric of Dean’s t-shirt, he clings to him for dear life.

Dean has noticed how much order means for Cas, but he didn’t expect a change to throw him off this much. Only now he realizes how much Cas needs to protect from the chaos in his mind.

"I’m here, I got you, it’s going to be alright." He kisses Cas’ temple and rubs his back. Cas’ muscles relax a bit and Dean coaxes him into a kiss, slow and steady. Castiel surges into it like he’s starving like Dean’s the only thing keeping him alive. It gives Dean an idea how to help him regain control over himself.

He shifts closer, pressing himself against Cas and whispers against his lips. "I’m here. I’m yours. I’m all yours."

There’s a familiar spark in Castiel’s eyes. Dean blows it into a flame. "Tell me what to do."

"Lie down," Castiel says, his voice much steadier as he shifts into his role."Take your shirt off".

* * *

 

In person, Meg is not what Dean expected. First of all, she’s small. And she’s terrifying. Attractive but in a way that makes Dean want to get out of her way.

"Hi Meg, I’m Dean."

She gives him a once over that makes him feel violated.

"Hmm. A pleasure to finally meet you," she purrs. Dean can’t decipher if she means it or not.

"Thanks for coming," he says as he closes the door behind her.

"You did well by calling me. How bad is it?"

"He’s rearranging his library."

Her perfect brows draw together. "Pretty bad then." She kicks her shoes off and places her hand on his forearm. "Will you make me a coffee, darling? Black, strong."

He feels strangely comforted by being given direct orders even though a part of his mind wants to rebel against Meg. She’s not his dom and he’s still a bit jealous of her, but the power she radiates is hard to resist.

He nods and watches as she walks into the living room, stepping over books scattered over the floor.

"Hello, angel," he hears her say.

There’s a pause before Cas answers,  Dean can tell by his tone that he’s frowning.

"I told him not to call you."

"Good that he’s less obedient than you make him sound."

Dean shakes his head and leaves to make the coffee.

* * *

 

Cas walks Meg out then joins Dean in the bedroom and sits down on the edge of the bed.

There’s silence. Dean pretends he’s still reading his book, but he isn’t. He feels the pressure of words threatening to suffocate him.

"I’m sorry I called her," he blurts out, "but you weren’t okay and I didn’t know how to help you, but I thought she might know how to and I needed to do something so I called her."

Castiel stops the downpour of words by squeezing his hand. "I’m glad you did".

"You are?"

"Yes. She helped me calm down, settle my thoughts. And I have a plan now."

"Do you? Tell me."

Cas shakes his head. "Not yet. But thank you, Dean. You don’t know just how much you helped me. Not just by calling Meg, but by everything you did for me, by sticking (up) with me through this whole mess."

Dean smiles softly. "I’m glad I could take care of you at least this once, you do it for me all the time."

Cas starts to protest, but Dean presses a finger against his lips.

"No, listen to me Cas, I just realized you don’t hear this often enough. You always tell me how good I am for you, but I think I never told you what an amazing dom-" he hesitates, "dom and boyfriend you are. You make me feel so good. And I don’t just mean that I ‘m feeling good when I’m with you, I mean you make me feel like _I’m good_ like I’m worth something. You take care of me in the bedroom and off and you are so good at it that sometimes I feel like you can read my mind. I think nobody ever understood me as well as you do.  You taught me so much about myself, you made me face what I fear and I...I think you actually helped me being more myself than I ever have been. And I’m probably never gonna be as good for you as you are for me, but I want to give at least a bit of it back. It means a lot that you let me."

He’s out of breath when he finishes and his throat and heart feel raw. He meets Castiel’s eyes. They are brimming with something that he doesn’t dare to name. Just when Dean takes in a breath, Castiel pulls him into a tight embrace. The air rushes out of Dean’s lungs in a form of a soft chuckle. He wraps his arms around Cas’ back and nuzzles at his neck.

"I don’t even know if that made sense."

"It made perfect sense," Castiel whispers, his lips against Dean’s temple.

They hug for a few long minutes. There are words unsaid hanging in the air, but neither of them gathers up the courage to say them out loud.

"I want to go on a road trip," Cas says instead.

"A road trip?" Dean pulls away so he can look at him.

"Yes. A vacation before I start working on-"

"Your super secret plan."

"Exactly. I want to learn to be spontaneous out of the bedroom and I want you to teach me. Do you think Charlie could take care of the shop for a few days?"

"Yeah, yeah I think she could. Let’s go for a road trip, Baby will love that."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There´s bottom!Cas in this chapter, that part is in italics so you can skip it if it´s not your thing (but seriously, you should try it because it´s still dom!Cas and I think it´s pretty hot)


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